


Year Sixteen (Aurek) (Hux)

by DarthAstris



Series: Heirs To The Empire (Aurek) (Hux) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bullying, Child Abuse, Dark Side Leia AU, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Torture, Sexual Content, Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/pseuds/DarthAstris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an Infinities AU where Leia Organa turned to the Dark Side during ANH, killed Vader, became the Emperor's apprentice, and now rules the Empire in his stead while he studies the nature of the Force on the planet Byss. Instead of marrying Han Solo, she married Imperial TIE pilot Turr Phennir and, a year later, gave birth to twin sons, Anakin and Ben. (Longer timeline of events listed in the notes below.)</p><p>This series is based on Hux's POV from a tabletop RPG I'm currently playing with my friends. Updates will follow as the game progresses! (Usually once a week, at least.) The "Aurek" series follow the plot of the game; titles with "Besh" are what-ifs from the game.</p><p>Hux is busting his ass at the Academy to hold the top student ranking, but his bunkmates are some pretty stiff competition: Irra Hegan, an accomplished pilot, survivalist, and mathematician from the harsh ocean planet of Pamarthe; Erisi Dlarit, top-notch exobiologist and negotiator from Thyferra; and Anakin Organa-Phennir, one of the Heirs to the Empire itself.  Just when everything starts looking up for Hux, all hell breaks loose, and he finds out just how much of his hard work pays off in the real world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to info dump in the story itself, so here is the exact timeline that we were given, as players in the game. These are the events leading up to Year Sixteen:
> 
>  **IC (Imperial Calendar) 0**  
>  End of the Clone Wars, birth of the Empire
> 
>  **IC 18** (During the events of ANH)  
>  Leia Organa is captured by Darth Vader and identified as strong in the Force.  
> Vader takes Leia to the Inquisitorious Citadel on Vjun.  
> Meanwhile, Tarkin has no reason to destroy Alderaan.  
> Tarkin orders Death Star to proceed with Palpatine’s ‘Hit-List’ of planets.  
> Death Star destroys Mon Calamari home world of Dac.  
> Luke Skywalker and Obi-wan reach Alderaan without incident.  
> Bail Organa brings the duo to the Rebel Alliance.  
> Tarkin continues with the Hit List and heads to Bothan homeworld, Bothawui.  
> The Rebel Alliance destroy the Death Star at the Battle of Bothawui.  
> Leia Organa embraces the dark side and becomes an Inquisitor.  
> Leia’s first act is to arrest her adopted father, Bail Organa, as a Rebel.  
> Rebel Alliance on Alderaan rounded up and purged. Bail Organa executed.
> 
>  **IC 19** (Around the time of ESB)  
>  Obi-wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker help re-establish the Jedi.  
> The Imperial Inquisition grows.  
> Leia Organa begins a relationship with Imperial pilot Turr Phennir.  
> Rebel Alliance, without Mon Calamari Cruisers, struggles with Imperial Navy.
> 
>  **IC 21** (During the events of ROTJ and after)  
>  The Empire defeats the Rebel Alliance at the Battle of Hoth.  
> Princess Leia marries Turr Phennir.  
> Princess Leia gives birth to twin boys, Anakin and Ben.
> 
>  **IC 22**  
>  The Rebellion is crushed at the Battle of Endor.  
> Several Jedi rumoured to survive the fiasco.  
> Vader challenges Palpatine, but Leia interferes.  
> Leia kills Vader and becomes the Emperor’s new Sith Apprentice.
> 
>  **IC 25**  
>  Rebel Alliance barely active. Empire has practically won.
> 
>  **IC 28**  
>  The Emperor loses himself in his Force studies on Byss.  
> Leia Organa-Phennir fills the Emperor’s void at court on Coruscant.  
> The Imperial Ruling Council begin to resent Leia’s presence.
> 
>  **IC 32**  
>  Imperial media begin to call Princess Leia the heir of the Empire, not just Alderaan.
> 
>  **IC 33**  
>  Young and ambitious Imperials, both military and political, gather around Leia.  
> The old guard of Palpatine’s era grow ever more hostile to Leia’s faction.
> 
>  **IC 37**  
>  Anakin and Ben are now 16, on the verge of adulthood.  
> Heirs to their mother and Imperial royalty, the twins are rich and famous.  
> Leia is about to make her play for the Imperial Throne.  
> Even if she beats Palpatine, many Imperials will reject her claim to rule.  
> A devastating Imperial Civil War is about to begin.  
> And the twins are going to be right in the middle of it!  
>   
>   
>   
>   
>   
> Further notes on tagging: If anything squicks you that I haven't tagged, please feel free to tell me. As far as the "underage" tag goes, I'm just playing it safe there. Technically speaking, in-universe, humans are considered adults at 16.  
>   
>   
>   
>   
> 

Normally, the buzz of the alarm chrono was a pleasant irritation for Hux; it signaled the start of another day toward his rise to perfection.  Today, however, he was feeling slightly less than optimal.  He told himself he shouldn't have tried to catch a nap, but he had been so worn out after his 04:00 training session with Ben that he couldn’t resist.  Now the dull throb of a headache nestled at the base of his skull and he felt as unrested as if he'd only just closed his eyes.

"Morning, sunshine," Hegan quipped, crossing the room to slap off the alarm, "Today's your day, Hux."

The bed shook as Anakin climbed down from the top bunk. "Is it?" Hux grumbled, holding his head in his hands.

"Got a peek at today's schedule. Tech and tac. Hyperdrive sim first."

Dlarit groaned. She hated engineering.

Hux perked up. " _Imperial 2_ -class?"

"Yup."

"Stars, yes!" Hux leapt out of bed and yanked on his uniform, no longer groggy in the slightest and thankful for having already showered after training.  His hands shook -- as much from exhaustion as excitement -- as he pulled his gloves on.  While he waited for Anakin to finish making the top bunk so he could get started on his, the door to their room flew open to reveal the scowling face of their minder and drill instructor, Lt. Holt.

The DI was a perpetually surly man whose ability to smile had receded like his once jet black, but now peppered, hair.  Hux supposed he'd be a complete asshole, too, if he'd gone his whole career never passing lieutenant despite the fact that the rest of his family were highly placed in the Imperial military.  _And getting stuck with a bunch of inexperienced cadets year after year, at that..._ He could scarcely imagine a worse fate.

"Move it, maggots! Engine room sim in 20!"

He turned and stormed out, somehow managing to make it seem he'd slammed the pneumatic sliding door as he took his whirlwind of rage with him.

Hux finished smoothing his bedsheets and gave himself one last once-over in the mirror before sprinting down the hall.  As usual, he was the first to line up, trying not to bounce on his toes in excitement as he stood at attention, waiting for his classmates to file in.  Anakin arrived second and came to stand next to him.  He seemed lost in thought, or perhaps just tired, so Hux didn't bother him.  Their constant vying for the top spot in the class rankings had taken its toll on both of them.

Of all the students at the Academy, Anakin Organa-Phennir (Cadet Alderaan, as protocol demanded) and Irra Hegan were the ones most likely to usurp his position at the top.  Hux had no doubt that the reason they were all made to bunk together was to drive them apart and engender fiercer competition, but the Academy psychologists had failed in that regard.  Despite sometimes clashing personalities, the three had become fast friends, enamored of their friendly rivalry with each other.  It was a source of immense pride and self-confidence that he'd been able to outdo Hegan, who was a year older, and Anakin, who was one of the heirs to the Empire itself.  Both he and Anakin had excelled so magnificently in their work at preparatory academies that they had been allowed into the Royal Academy a year earlier than other students.  Not only that, but they both had to work extra hard to dispel the whispers of “nepotism” that shadowed every accomplishment.

Hegan breezed into the room last, just shy of lateness, a half-eaten protein bar hanging from her lips.  Hux was of the opinion that it was her personal goal to exert as little energy as possible to get anything done.  It infuriated him that she could be so nonchalant about everything and yet remain such a threat to his standing.

Lt. Holt climbed the stairs to the top of the simulator room and the class snapped to attention with a wave of sharp heel clicks. "Listen up, nerfherders! Today we'll be running you through various engineering catastrophes, one by one, in units of four.  Your team leader will assume the role of chief engineer. You will have 15 minutes for your unit to complete the exercise. You may not speak about the simulation itself, or your successes, or failures, until all groups have finished.  By the grace of His Imperial Majesty, you will not fail me and disgrace yourselves and your families to the point where you end up stuck in a dead end job, training hopeless, unpurposed little phobium scraps like yourselves! Some of you maggots may actually go on to make something of yourselves, which means you will need to be familiar with every detail of the ships under your command. Any Kowakian monkey-lizard can shout orders from the bridge, but whether or not they are _effective_ orders depends entirely on your understanding of the functions of your ship. Cadet Hux! Assemble your unit! You're up first!"

Holt disappeared off to the back of the catwalk, where he could observe both the simulation and the remainder of the students in the classroom.

Hux strode to the center of the room and selected his team, who stepped forward one by one as he called their names.  "Alderaan, Hegan, Dlarit, let's do this!"

Dlarit’s eyes widened in surprise at hearing her name.  Engineering was her weakest subject by far, and he certainly knew that.  She was delighted to have been chosen, but she couldn't understand why Hux would have picked her over Del-Bara, who occupied the fourth spot in the class hierarchy. Del-Bara, too, looked shocked, having been prepared to step forward.  He frowned at Hux in confusion.

Comfortable with his decision, Hux paid the jealous Del-Bara no mind.  His team hurried inside the massive HoloSim room.  The bay doors slid shut and the holographic simulation lit up around them.  They stood in the middle of the engine room command deck, the main hyperdrive of an _Imperial 2_ -class Star Destroyer stretching out for hundreds of meters below them while the three main ion engines extended into the distance on the other side of the deck.  Ten droids, painted to look like engine room crew, with rank pins drilled into their chassis, stood at various stations around the hall.

Lt. Holt gave them a few minutes to stare in awe before shouting, "Chief Engineer Hux! Is your unit ready?"

Hux took a deep breath, looking to each to nod their assent before replying, "Sir! Yes, sir!"

"Fifteen minutes, on my mark!"

They each set the timers on their wrist chronos.

"Mark!"

Sounds of battle and catastrophe thundered around them: klaxons blared, the bass hum of the hyperdrive vibrated through the grate under their feet and rattled their sternums, electricity buzzed in arcs around malfunctioning equipment, explosions both inside and out shook the room.  It felt so real, and Hux had never felt more alive.

Hux closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated.  Within seconds of listening to the pitch of the hyperdrive's drone, he knew exactly what the problem was likely to be.  "Alderaan, containment! Hegan, fire control! Dlarit, monitoring and comms!"  Hux scrambled to the hyperdrive controls but maintained a perfectly calm outward composure.  His fingers flew over the panel, re-routing and shutting down problems with the hypermatter reactor core as quickly as he saw them flash on screen. As the others took control of their stations, he filled them in on his suspicions, "We're looking at a Class 4, possibly 5, containment leak in sections 2 & 3 of the reactor core, causing stability issues with the hyperdrive.  Report!"

"Containment leak confirmed, section 3," Anakin called out.  "Re-routing primary and secondary electrical systems now, sir."

"Fire teams standing by on sections 2, 3, and 6, sir!"

"Confirmed, sir!" Dlarit added, "Power holding.  Fires in section 2 and 6.  Radiation spiking in section 3. Fire teams responding.  Droid teams dispersed.  Repairs in process."  Now that she saw Hux intended to field the repairs himself, she understood her placement in the team.  She had assumed, as team leader, that he would have taken over monitoring and had them carry out the work.  His hands-on nature inspired her.

"Acknowledged!" Hux responded.  He had the utmost confidence in his team and his assessment of their suitability for their particular stations.  They worked in tense concentration for several minutes, Dlarit’s occasional reports the only thing that broke through the chaotic atmosphere.  When Hux moved between repair conduits and stations, he did so with the assurance befitting an officer -- hurried but poised. Alarms fell silent one by one as problems were solved, and order reigned for a short time.  "Dlarit, recall repair droids and keep an eye on the power levels of the main ion engine.  Shunt overloads to port and starboard engines, they tend to overheat during refresh. I’ll prep the Gemon-4s for backup.  Hegan, call back your fire team and have them watch over those converters in section 10.  Alderaan, prepare for containment field refresh in T-minus-15 seconds.  Mark!"

Holt nodded his approval from above, though the cadets were too immersed in their duties to notice.  They were seconds away from breaking the Academy record.  Perhaps he had been too easy on them.  They completed their primary tasks in just under 5 minutes, and already Cadet Hux had identified the problems Holt had programmed into the secondary portion of the simulation.  When the primary ion engine overheated as predicted, the cadets' standby teams controlled and repaired the trouble in less than 4 minutes.  Hux had even anticipated a third set of problems and had his crew station droids and engineers appropriately, not knowing the simulation had been designed to end there.  Holt would have suspected cheating if he hadn't seen Hux sneaking out past curfew to study in the library on numerous occasions.  He wondered if the boy ever allowed himself a free minute away from his datapad; he never looked as though he had had enough sleep.

They finished the sim with about 4 minutes to spare, and Lt. Holt shut it down, deciding he had seen enough.  Most crews didn't make it past the primary malfunction.

"Dismissed!" he yelled, without any indication of their success.

"Great work, everyone," Hux smiled.  "That _had_ to be a record!"

Everyone's grinning and shoulder-slapping ended the moment the doors slid open.  They exited the simulator stone-faced and solemn. The rest of the class scrutinized them for the slightest signs of distress, but found none among their excellent sabacc-faces.  Hux went straight to his desk and poured over his engineering text on his datapad, fists balled at either side.  He scoured the text for any indication that they may have made a mistake.  It was murder having to wait the two hours it took for all the groups to finish before they got their results. 

About halfway through the last group's test, everyone lined up at attention and waited for Holt to return. He reappeared on the outer catwalk with his datapad in hand.  "The following team leaders, step forward when I call your names! Veers! Hux! Corbaal! Sorovan!”

The four cadets stepped forward and stood at attention. Hux worried that he had been called second, but tried not to overanalyze it.

“Veers! Your unit receives the singular distinction of having failed so utterly as to have caused the destruction of the entire ship! You spent 10 minutes in a pissing match, blaming each other over your _frack_ -ups instead of identifying the problem and working together! Your selfishness and ineptitude caused the deaths of 46,803 of your fellow Imperials!” Lt. Holt snarled.  The rest of the class were too mortified on their behalf to crack jokes.  “Sorovan! Your team incorrectly identified the problem and then set about nerfshitting to try and cover up for your lack of collective knowledge! It was clear to me from the beginning that only one of you had done the homework, and you failed to listen to her suggestions. Never disregard your inferiors! Disgraceful!”

Hux swallowed hard as Holt turned his attention to him and Corbaal.  He was certain they had done everything to the letter, even so, doubt crept in.

“Corbaal! Your team identified the problem, and then failed to complete the necessary repairs in the allotted time, again due to lack of discipline and concentration.  All three units are assigned to latrine duty for the next 2 months!” He paused, letting the shame of his punishments settle in.  

“Once again, it seems Cadet Hux and his team are the only ones among you lazy Hutts worth the spit you shine your shoes with.”

Though his posture didn’t change, Hux felt the tension melt from his shoulders.  His fists, which had balled up again at his sides (as was his habit from as far back as he could remember), unclenched.  A different kind of pressure formed a knot in his stomach.  He was proud of their efforts, and, though this should have been familiar territory by now, he was still unused to receiving praise of any kind.

“Hux and his team identified and began preliminary assessments of the primary failure in exactly 7.42 seconds.  In itself, a new record.  They continued to work together in complete trust and finished repairing both primary and secondary failures, and even prepared for a _third_ eventuality, with 4 minutes and 25 seconds remaining.  Sadly this was just shy of the standing record of 4 minutes and 27 seconds.  However, their hard work has earned them the rest of the period off, while the lot of you will be reviewing and analyzing the recordings of your pathetic attempts for the next two hours. Cadet Hux, you and your unit are dismissed!”

Anakin, Dlarit, and Hegan hurried out, eager to take advantage of their free time, but the sting of disappointment held Hux back a moment.  _Just_ two _seconds…_ “Lt. Holt, sir!”

“Yes, Cadet? Are you still here?”

“If I may, sir, I’d like to review the recording of our performance to see where we might have made up for that 2 second difference.”

The slightest quirk turned up the corner of the lieutenant’s lips before his face became set in stone once more.  “It will be sent to your datapad.  Will that be all?”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

Holt waved him away, and Hux saluted and exited briskly.  _That boy’s going to make grand admiral someday, if he doesn’t burn himself out within the year._   He marveled at his change in attitude toward the boy.  Holt had had his suspicions about Hux’s friendship with Anakin, but he had proven himself to be competent in his own right and in no need of a boost from his friendship with the two princes.  _Unlike most ladder-climbers here…_   He turned his cold stare back to the class.


	2. Chapter 2

Hux arrived early to the lunch room, taking up his customary position at the end of the back table reserved for the second-years.  Absently picking at his food, he scrutinized every detail of the holoprojection before him.  Try as he might, he could find no fault in the actions of his teammates; everyone, even the uncertain Dlarit (whose timing between detection, prioritizing, and reporting he studied repeatedly) had moved efficiently and effectively to detect and manage failures.  That meant the fault lie with him.   His nails dug into the familiar grooves in his palms as he reviewed his own performance.  Something – his movements, his orders, his judgement, his calculations – had been off.  He couldn’t see it, so he played it back again.  And again.  And again.  The possibility that he had done nothing wrong never entered his mind.  He had been in charge, thus the responsibility was his alone.

In a deeper, unacknowledged part of his mind, he knew it was his fault because _everything_ was his fault.  He had never accomplished anything in his life that couldn’t have been done better.  His father had told him that repeatedly growing up, and failures like this only served to reinforce the truth of it.

When Dlarit set down her tray across from him, he hardly took note of her presence.

“Are you still watching that? Hux, we came out on top.  We almost broke the Academy record!”

“Almost.”

“We’ll have other chances.”

“Hmm.”

Dlarit hesitated, “Was it me?”

“What?” He finally looked up. “No.”

“Oh.  I just thought, well, I’m not very good at that sort of thing.  I was really surprised you picked me over Del-Bara.”

“You did an amazing job.  I know engineering isn’t your best subject, but I know how you work, and I trust you.  You’ve always had top-notch reflexes and I think I made the right call in trusting that your triage skills would be useful in handling the comm station.  I wouldn’t have picked you if I thought you couldn’t handle it.”

Dlarit hadn’t considered that, but leaning in to observe her performance, she could see the logic of his decision.  Medical triage called for split-second sorting and prioritizing, and she had always excelled in medical and biological sciences.  She nodded. “Hmm, you’re right.  I need to learn to think more creatively.  I guess that’s why you’re the Admiral.”

“Ugh, don’t,” Hux groaned at the humiliating nickname he’d acquired in his first year, when he’d announced, in all seriousness, that he would become the youngest Admiral the galaxy had ever seen.  As the years passed and his successes piled one on top of another, the bullying had decreased though he still heard it from time to time.  Now, everyone just resented him for his scores.

She laughed, “All in good fun.  It’s true, though.  I know a lot of people laughed when you said that, but I believed you.  Still do.”

“One of these days I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut.”

They both chuckled at the likelihood of that.

“What are you two laughing at?”  Veers loomed over them, arms folded across her chest.

Sorovan, Farral, and Korr set their trays down and joined her, walling off Hux and Dlarit from the rest of the cafeteria. 

“Nothing,” Hux said, switching off the projector and going back to eating his now cold lunch.

“We watched your Holo.  Several times, in fact,” Farral said, darkly.  “Thing is, we can’t quite figure out how it is you knew what the problem was so quickly.  Especially since every other team took at least 2 minutes to suss it out.”

“Is there something you’d like to say to me, Farral?” Hux bristled at the insinuation that he had cheated.

Veers opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Hegan shoving through to grab her seat by Dlarit.  “Hey! If you turd herders don’t want some wall-to-wall counseling, I suggest you stow that nerfshit right now! If you spent more time hitting the books than pulling spotlight ranger duty maybe you wouldn’t be chasing _kark_ for the next two months!”

Dlarit snickered.

The four cadets dispersed, muttering to themselves about involving the commandant, and sat down at the opposite end of the table.  Hux glared after them.  He only looked away when Dlarit whispered. 

“Hux, your hand.”

He’d dug his nails in so deeply he’d drawn blood.  A thin trickle of crimson had begun to pool under his fist.  Dlarit dug in her bag for a Bacta patch.  Hux rolled up his napkin and wiped away the spots on the table, clutching the cloth to stop the bleeding.  “It’s fine.”  He tried to go back to eating, but his appetite had deserted him, leaving in its place a knot of shame for something he hadn’t even done.

“They’re just jealous,” Anakin said as he sat down beside Hux.  Hux wondered if Anakin was just saying that or if he could feel their emotions the way some Force-users could.  Either way, it didn’t matter.  The accusation was out there now.  With or without proof, it would follow his career unless he put a stop to it somehow.

He got his chance sooner than expected.

The class period after lunch was spent in quiet study, labelling hundreds of engine room ship parts as part of a pop quiz.  Hux was the first out of his seat to turn in his datachip.  Veers cleared her throat to get Lt. Holt’s attention and looked pointedly between him and Hux.  Several others glanced up from their datapads as well, a hungry look in their eyes, like Firaxan sharks scenting blood in the water.

With a sigh, Lt. Holt stood and called out, “Cadet Hux.  A moment please.”

Hux stopped just before his desk and turned, stiffening to attention. “Yes, sir?”

“It has been brought to my attention that several of your classmates would like to know how you zeroed in on the hyperdrive problem so expediently.”

Hux clenched his jaw and felt his face flush hot with embarrassment and anger.

“To be clear, I’m not questioning your integrity, but I am curious.”

“I could hear it, sir,” he closed his eyes and recalled the pitch, “Besh flat.  It indicates a hypermatter overflow, due to a containment leak, sir.”

“Oh, come on!” Sorovan shouted, starting a cascade of murmuring around him.

“Silence!” Holt roared.  When the class fell quiet again, he continued in a softer, but no less menacing tone.  “It just so happens I have several recordings of hyperdrive malfunctions here.  Care to illuminate us?”

Hux felt as though he had been stabbed in the gut.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, it was that the people with whom he was meant to form a bond of deepest trust had turned on him; even his instructor didn’t believe him.  Not trusting his voice to remain steady, he nodded his assent.

“Not a peep out of you lot,” Holt warned, pointing to the class.  He played the first selection.

Hux exhaled, closed his eyes and said, after a few seconds, “Aurek flat: uneven hypermatter distribution.  Check converters and activate secondary flow systems.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but he could feel the change in the room’s atmosphere.  Several students gasped and whispered, “What the _frack_ …”

“Shh!” Holt hissed, playing the next recording.

“Dorn flat: high-flow.  Routing problems.  Check flow dampeners.”

And the next.  “Grek 2 and rising: seconds away from catastrophic failure.  Seal off all decks forward of engineering and prepare to abandon ship.”

Another. “Esk flat…” he tilted his head, detecting another hum, “and Cresh: nothing is wrong with the hyperdrive, but the relay systems are malfunctioning, giving a false overload reading.”

Hux frowned at the last one and opened his eyes to glare around the room at his accusers.  “Cresh: That’s a trick question, sir.  Everything is running as it should be.”  He sneered at Veers, who held her hand to her mouth in shock.  “I hope you washed your hands.”

“Ohhhhh-ho-ho-ho!” Hegan laughed and reached over to slap Hux’s ass in solidarity.  “Suck it, Veers!”

“Thank you for that informative and impressive demonstration.  That will be all, Cadet,” Holt nodded for Hux to return to his seat. 

“Yes, sir.”  Hux sat back in his desk and returned his attention to his datapad, ignoring the stares of his classmates.  His hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush that accompanied his surge of pride.  He wasn’t one to gloat, but he had to admit it felt _good_ to put them in their places.

“You lot, quit gawking and let that be a lesson to you.  And those of you who had the gall to level false accusations against one of your own without any proof to back up your claims, I’ll be seeing you in my office at 21:00. Now, get back to work!”

Hux’s datapad flashed with a message from Del-Bara: < _Damn, Hux.  Will you teach me how to do that? >_ He didn’t return the message -- they weren’t supposed to send texts in class – but he caught Del-Bara’s eye and nodded.  Several other messages followed, lighting up the corner of his viewscreen.  He swiped them away and went back to studying.


	3. Chapter 3

After study period, Lt. Holt lined them up and marched them out through the parade grounds.  He didn’t tell them where they were going, though they guessed it had something to do with the new building that loomed behind the TIE runs. Sunlight radiated down through cloudless skies, pleasant and warm, and Hux tilted his face up to it with a smile as a few TIEs streaked overhead in formation.  He had never experienced a sunny day such as this back on his homeworld of Arkanis. Even after two years on Coruscant, he hadn’t gotten used to it. 

The courtyard stretched out before them, the late-afternoon sun glinting off the flag stands that held the planetary banners representing each cadet at the Academy.  Most students were Coruscanti, but a dozen or so other flags lined the field: Alderaan, Anaxes, Arkanis, Bespin, Carlac, Chandrila, Corellia, Empress Teta, Hosnian Prime, Hoth, Jelucan, Kuat, Lothal, Mandalore, Naboo, Onderon, Pamarthe, Prakith, Takodana, Tatooine, and Yavin 4.  Passing by his flag, Hux felt a conflicting swell of pride and bitterness.  Arkanis, though famous in its own right for its general wealth in trade and his father’s prestigious Arkanis Academy, was still considered by most to be a backwater planet on the outer-rim, easily dismissed.  That Hux had been able to dispel that notion through his efforts gave him a sense of satisfaction.  At the same time, he had few pleasant memories of home that hadn’t been tarnished by his father’s tyranny.  He did miss the rain sometimes, though.

They arrived at the campus extension: a towering building of New Order design, standing out from the ruddy ferrocrete construction of the surrounding campus by its utilitarian, gray permacrete form.  No one dared break their regimented silence to guess what might be inside, but as they filtered into one of the building’s many great halls, their discipline broke down.  Fifty war room HoloProjector tables, exactly like the ones found inside _Imperial 2_ -class Star Destroyers, filled the space.  At the head of the space, on a raised dais, stood 13 more projectors, exact reproductions of those on _Dreadnaught_ -class Super Star Destroyers.  Hux could barely contain his excitement.  He glanced over at Anakin, who looked similarly enthralled, and grinned.

“Welcome to the War Room,” Holt called from the podium.  “This hall was constructed 2 years ago for third year cadets and post-graduates on the command track.  Our own admirals, and even grand admirals, have stood at these very tables, running battle simulations and perfecting their tactics.  I begged special favor from the commandant himself to allow you maggots a chance at this.  See the things I do for you gundarks?  Try not to piss on this great honor with your continually poor performances.  And, for the love of the Emperor, don’t _fracking_ break anything or you’ll find yourselves shipped off for slave labor, working sanitation in the Gungan Embassy!”

Holt took a moment to activate the tables, and they flared to life with three-dimensional, rotating, blue-tinted star charts; a far cry from their usual datapad-to-datapad battle simulations. 

“Each of you is on your own this time.  For the next 3 hours, we will engage in one-on-one fleet battles in an elimination tournament, the winner of which will choose their own team for a very special privilege, to be revealed in two weeks' time.  You will each be assigned a superiority force, which consists of what, Cadet Veers?”

“Three battle squadrons: two attack lines, one pursuit line, and one Star Destroyer line each.  One light squadron: one skirmish line and one reconnaissance line.  A total of…” she paused to run the math, “72 to 120 ships, plus 1 to 3 Star Destroyers, sir!”

“Well, look at that. You do know something after all!  Try not to let your ego get in the way this time and you might make up for this morning’s catastrophe.”

“Yes, sir,” she barked, glaring.

“One superiority force is all you get.  They will not be refreshed between battles, nor will lost ships be replaced.  Repairs may be conducted if you have any down-time between battles, though there is no guarantee they will be completed before your next.  Simulations will proceed according to historical battle scenarios.  This means you may also be attacked by Rebel or other forces while engaged.  You are responsible for keeping your forces alive and well until your final battle! Unlike your datapad sims, you will not be typing in your commands.  You will be issuing orders in real time, and the simulated crews will respond accordingly to your voices.  Sonic dampeners around each table will prevent others from overhearing your orders, but inside your personal fields will be all the sounds of chaos encountered in an actual battle.  Any questions?” Hux burned with questions about the programming and customizations various admirals had made, but no one raised their hands so he decided his curiosity could wait. “Very well.  When you hear your name, proceed to your assigned table!”

Holt had never seen his cadets move as briskly as they did when he called out the randomized bracket assignments.  Though he was pleased with their enthusiasm, he refrained from showing it.  When the battles began, he chuckled to himself at everyone’s initial reactions to the cacophony of sound.  Even Alderaan, who had been aboard real Star Destroyers numerous times, flinched.  The first hour of battles went pretty much as he expected, with few stand outs beyond the usual candidates.  Holt could tell within the first minute, without even keying in to individual comm channels, who was cut out for command material.  Their posture and confidence told him everything he needed to know.

Predictably, Hux, Hegan, Alderaan, Del-Bara, Camaran, and Veers swept their respective opponents in a matter of minutes, spending the remainder of their time inspecting their forces and issuing repair orders.  The students who were eliminated in the first rounds were allowed to gather around separate tables to watch and listen to whichever battles they chose. 

The second round was a bit more intense, though so far none of the main candidates had faced each other.  Hux, Hegan, and Veers had suffered only one or two minor ship losses each, due more to being harried by outside forces than their respective opponents.

Round three saw a tense showdown between Hegan and Veers, which Holt (and the rest of the class) tuned into with much anticipation.  Illicit bets were undoubtedly taking place, but the lieutenant paid it no mind.  The two women absolutely decimated one another’s forces, Veers going at it with utter abandon.  Holt frowned at her ill-considered ruthlessness.  Tac sims were not the place for personal grudges and he would consider this a black mark against Veers, whom he’d already warned against this exact behavior.  Hux was having little difficulty against Camaran, whose forces had already been thinned by her opponents.  Holt could see Hux’s attention occasionally drawn to the fight between Veers and Hegan, knowing he would have to face the winner.  His shrewd mind was undoubtedly already planning ahead.

In the end, Hegan’s patience won out over Veers’ recklessness, the latter stomping away toward the back of the hall to fume in private while Hegan hastily assigned repair crews to her remaining ships.  A little over half the class cheered at her victory.  Hegan caught Hux’s eye through the haze of his flagship’s hologram and they exchanged knowing smiles. 

Camaran fought to the bitter end.  Commendable, and also a nice bit of tactical revenge on her part since Hux would have no time to effect repairs on his own ships before facing Hegan.  Hux currently had 66 of his original 80 ship fleet remaining, Hegan, less than 40.  Alderaan had fared better at 72, but now he faced Del-Bara, who, in a surprising streak of luck, had bested Korr to take his place in the semi-finals.

The class jockeyed for position around the two central HoloProjectors, hoping to catch both battles at once.  Though the contenders could not hear each other's orders, they were now being broadcast into the hall for the bystanders to analyze and enjoy.

Round four started with Hegan jumping straight into an empty field of battle; Hux had delayed his entry in order to pinpoint his jump from hyperspace directly on top of her forces.  He was off to a good start, bombarding her ships directly from his flagship above.  Alderaan and Del-Bara jumped into realspace alongside each other and opened fire, both sides trying to outflank one another.  Hegan made up for her lost lead by destroying several of Hux's star fighter launch bays.

Holt enjoyed seeing their different command styles. Hux and Alderaan kept their cool, standing in one place, rigid at attention, clasped hands only occasionally venturing forward from behind their backs to zoom or rotate a section of the projection.  Hegan was a pacer, stalking back and forth around her table, shouting orders above the din of battle.  Del-Bara fell somewhere between the two, standing mostly still, but seeming to forget at times that he could change the angle of the HoloImage with a gesture.

By the mid-point of the battle, Hux was visibly sweating.  Hegan had taken out his flagship's hyperdrive and the majority of his starfighters, which he then recalled in favor of the bigger guns.  Likewise between Alderaan and Del-Bara, who spent the majority of the battle wondering how he had made it this far to begin with.

Hux's gunners and captains took to his clear, concise command style better than Hegan's increasingly angry demands. He ran a screen with his remaining frigates, and blasted away with heavy turbolasers until Hegan acquiesced to his terms of surrender. Before he had even been granted the win, Hux ordered engineering controls transferred to the bridge so he could personally work on the repairs. He was down to 52 ships, and an inaccessible port side hangar bay, which meant many of his fighters could not return to base, nor could the remaining forces docked there be deployed. Try as he might, he could not fix both problems, though his crew managed to clear enough debris to be able to launch single file if needed. He focused on the hyperdrive, knowing he couldn't very well limp into battle at sub-light speeds with no method of escape. A difficult call had to be made regarding the remaining TIE fighters: they had no hyperdrives of their own, and were not currently near any habitable planets. If he abandoned them in order to advance, they faced a pilot’s worst fear: being stranded in space, dying slowly of asphyxiation.

In a move Holt did not expect, Hux ordered all TIEs docked port side to begin deploying. He wasn't going to meet Cadet Alderaan; he was going to make Anakin come to him. This would put him at a major disadvantage, but it was either that or lose almost an entire complement of starfighters.

Lt. Holt decided to liven things up a bit as the final battle began, throwing 30 Rebel ships into the mix, complete with a captured Interdictor.

Anakin knew Hux's forces were crippled, and Hux knew that Anakin had the superior numbers. Hux anticipated Anakin's surprise attack and turned his flagship to protect his damaged port side.

Then the Rebel fleet jumped in behind him.

Hux gasped and nearly swore out loud. He ground his teeth and ordered half his fleet to engage, hoping no one could see his hands shaking. _I cannot go out like this!_

Anakin had already given the order to jump to lightspeed when his recon unit reported the Rebels' arrival. He could do nothing to stop his ships from colliding on forced reversion to realspace. Though the smaller corvettes managed to pull away in time, several of Anakin's remaining frigates exploded on impact. He continued the only way he could, saving his Star Destroyers by driving straight toward Hux's forces.

He could have easily eliminated Hux in that moment, turned aside as he was to square off with the Rebels. Hux exchanged looks with Anakin across the room, swallowed hard, and made the hardest decision he'd yet made in his career.

He ordered every one of his ships to engage the Rebels, completely ignoring and turning his back to Anakin's attack force.

The class (particularly Hux's detractors) had gone wild when the Rebels appeared, but now they fell completely silent. Even Holt held his breath as Anakin continued his advance. Had this been a real battle Hux’s sacrifice would have become the stuff of legends.

Anakin's ships sailed overhead and opened fire...

...on the Rebels.

All of their classmates cheered, even the ones who were hoping Hux would be taken out.  Shouts of encouragement nearly drowned out the sounds of the battle. "Yes! – That’s how it's done! – For the Empire! – Die, Rebel scum!"

Hux allowed himself a sigh of relief as Anakin's ships interspersed amongst the holes in his fleet, their previously red transponders turning green as they switched from foes to friendlies. Together, they obliterated the Rebels in a matter of minutes. Hux's boarding party had even successfully infiltrated the stolen Interdictor craft under complete radio silence.

The battle with the Rebels won, Hux opened a channel to Anakin. The room fell silent in anticipation. "I thank you for your assist, Admiral Alderaan."

"It was the right thing to do. However, we seem to have left something unresolved, Admiral Hux.  Shall we?"

Hux and Anakin turned first to their classmates, who had tasted blood and were desperate for more.  They all begged Lt. Holt to let them continue. The pair looked to Holt for permission.

Holt, satisfied with their conduct, first looked to Hux and asked, "Admiral Hux, why did you make the call to engage the Rebels when it meant exposing your forces to an incoming enemy fleet of superior strength?"

"Sir, the Empire comes first. I am prepared to give my life in service to it. And I would rather die fighting our real enemies than my own people, sir!"

Nodding, Holt announced, " _That_ , cadets, is what courage is. _That_ is how an admiral of the Empire behaves: utilizing the vast resources our Beloved Emperor has granted us to destroy our true enemies, not _wasting_ them on some petty squabble or for revenge." He glared at Veers before returning his attention to Hux and Alderaan. You've made a fine showing for yourselves today, gentlemen. So, I'm inclined to let you have a little fun, if that is what you wish." Holt switched the transponders back to show what remained of the opposing forces.

In their current positions, they were equally disadvantaged: half of Anakin's forces had pulled ahead, while the other half remained mixed in with Hux's. When the battle began, the latter would surely be lost, bringing their numbers near even. They smiled at each other across holographic star fields littered with the debris of their enemies. Reassuming their postures of authority, they waited for the sonic dampeners to reestablish their privacy, bowed to each other and began in earnest.

Hux's initial fusillade wiped out any of Anakin's ships still behind the new skirmish line, as expected.   But, many of his ships were still crippled from Hegan's earlier onslaught, and Anakin had not placed his ships there carelessly. Hux lost two heavy cruisers, a frigate, and one light cruiser in the process, while Anakin had only lost light cruisers and corvettes. After the first assault, Hux went into fully defensive maneuvers, holding the line for almost ten minutes, waiting for a very specific indicator to flash on his control panel. Anakin devastated his frigate screen, and started to move in for the kill.

Still, Hux waited.

Anakin regarded him with suspicion but continued to press his advantage.

Hux stared directly at him, stone-faced and unreadable aside from fleeting glances toward his control panel and occasional orders to hold the line.

Ship after ship disappeared in fiery clouds of destruction.

Hux held his rigid posture and refused to wipe away the bead of sweat that trickled down his temple.  His fists tightened and trembled behind his back.

The light flashed green.

Anakin had forgotten, or perhaps not even noticed, that Hux had sent a crew to regain the Interdictor during their fight with the Rebels. Now, it was his, and it was behind Anakin's fleet. He ordered its activation. The artificial gravity field reached out and enveloped almost eighty percent of Anakin's remaining forces, including his flagship, preventing any and all maneuvers beyond idling speed. Hux ordered in all the TIEs he had been holding in reserve behind his Star Destroyer, and every other ship he had, to skirt the edge of the gravity trap and fire at will until little remained of Anakin's heavy forces but an asteroid field of scrap. He refused to let up until his victory was ascertained. If Anakin rejected his terms of surrender, he could still cripple or destroy the Interdictor and fight back, and Hux’s fleet would be lost. When Anakin's fleet was reduced to a few straggling starfighters, three heavy cruisers, and his flagship, Hux re-opened the comm channel. 

"Admiral Alderaan, will you accept my terms of surrender?"

"I will." He inclined his head in a show of respect and acknowledgement.

Hux returned the gesture, and the HoloProjections disappeared.

The classroom exploded in applause, shouts, and cheers.

Hux finally relaxed, relieved he had been wearing his gloves, else his palms would have been scraped raw by the end of the battle.

Lt. Holt applauded as well, then held up a hand for silence.  "Cadet Hux, explain your offer of terms to a foe who could have been effortlessly annihilated.  Article Six of the Imperial Code states: 'I will complete every mission without hesitation, ambiguity, or _mercy_.'"

"Yes, sir.  But it also states that we should 'maintain impeccable standards of conduct' and 'use Imperial resources responsibly.'  Cadet Alderaan could have taken the advantage and destroyed me at the outset, but he did not.  He did the honorable thing by assisting me in the destruction of a mutual enemy, and I felt I should extend the same courtesy.  I also felt that I should preserve as many ships as possible to replace those I had lost.  After all, Cadet Alderaan's ships belong to the Empire, regardless of the reason we found ourselves at odds, sir."

"Excellent.  Well said!" Holt resumed his applause, as did the class.  "Very well, I declare Cadet Hux the winner.  In two weeks’ time, after you've passed your SERE training, you will choose three cadets to accompany you for a very special mission.  I expect you will choose wisely.  Class dismissed!"

On the way back through the courtyard, Hux jogged to catch up to Anakin. Night had fallen, and normally Hux would have taken the time to gaze up at the stars, many of which were still visible in the clear sky even under the lights of the unending city. "Hey," he said, getting Anakin's attention as he slowed to walk next to him. "Thanks for that, really. You could have had me, even without the Rebels showing up."

"You think so?"

"Well, I wouldn't have made it easy on you, but... I was worried."

"You made bold moves: launching and hiding all your starfighters, waiting for me to come to you, going after that Interdictor.  I didn't see you do that, either. I hadn't even thought of it.  The fault was my own."

He hesitated before asking his next question, agonizing over the right way to put it.  He certainly didn't want to call his friend's honor into question.  "Since it cost you the win, would you ever do that again? Back me up like that?"

"Yes.  But, you should know it wasn't because of our friendship. It was for the Empire."

Hux nodded, he wasn't offended either. He'd never really had friends before, so he had no meterstick by which to measure the bonds of friendship.  He was well aware of his expendability in the grand scheme of things. Anakin, and his brother, Ben, were princes of the Empire, and as such Hux felt a fierce loyalty toward them. "Of course. I'd do the same."

"Glad to hear it. The Empire needs more people like us."

"Indeed."

They walked the rest of the way in contemplative silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner was a less solemn affair. Word had already gotten around about Hux and Anakin's much praised battle.  Even random 3rd years stopped by to congratulate them, including the top overall ranked student, Cadet Estan Kyrell-Ree.  Estan was the son of the famous Ciena Ree, youngest captain (at 25) and youngest admiral (a mere 13 years later) in the Empire -- Hux's inspiration and nemesis.  Hux hadn't known Estan was enrolled here when he popped his mouth off about wanting to be the youngest admiral in Galactic history, and Estan hadn't let him live it down.

"I heard about what you did today. It showed a strength of character I didn't think you possessed, honestly.  I thought you would like to know that my mother approves."

Hux was taken aback by Estan's change of attitude.

"I..." For once, he was at a loss for words. He knew how important honor was to the Jelucan people, and how rare praise was given by them, especially to outsiders. "I'm honored. Truly. Thank you, sir."

Hux thought he detected a hint of jealousy in Estan's next words, though he couldn't imagine why.  "She also said that if the rest of your career continues in the same vein, she's prepared to offer you a position in her command upon graduation."

"Oh... That's... I... Please extend my sincerest gratitude, sir.  I would love to serve aboard the _Inflictor,_ provided my service meets her expectations."

"Try not to let it go to your head," he said, and gave a curt nod to Hux before leaving.

"Looks like things are looking up for you, Hux," Hegan said after he'd been staring at his tray for several minutes, having forgotten to eat.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah. What a day!"

The four friends tried to carry on their conversation, joking about various things and trying to work out what this "special mission" assignment would be, as well as what awaited them in the second half of their SERE training, but yet another cadet interrupted them, this time in the unlikely guise of an outgoing 1st year. 

"Um, excuse me, sirs, sorry to interrupt but, are you Cadet Hux?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I hear you're the man of the hour."

"If that's what you heard." Hux smiled.

"Oh, forgive my manners, sir.  I'm Cadet Cratus; I'm the recruiter for the Coruscant Corsairs."

"Coruscant Corsairs? What's that?"

Everyone at the table, including Anakin, stopped eating at stared at Hux.

"'What's _that'_?" Hegan said, shocked, "What the _frack_ do you mean, 'What's that?'  They're our school's wedgeball team! The best in the league! How the _frack_ do _you_ not know that?""

"Sorry, I don't really have time to keep up with sports.  What can I do for you, Cadet Cratus?"

"Well, you see, sir, we have the big final of the season coming up, and our starting runner is out due to illness.  The captain asked me to recruit you."

Hux looked himself up and down, his thin frame evident even under the added bulk of his uniform, and started laughing.  "You want _me_ to play _wedgeball_.  Are you taking the piss?"

"No, sir, not at all! Being the runner is more about dexterity, reflexes, and aiming than it is about strength.  No offense."

"None taken, but are you certain you wouldn't rather have Hegan, here? Or Alderaan? Or really, _anyone_ but me?"

Hegan looked ready to jump at the chance, but Anakin chuffed, "Oh no, leave me out of this."

"The captain said you were the first choice, sir.  He thought you might like a chance to go up against Arkanis, you know, show your loyalty to the school and a—"

"Hold up." Hux said, "Did you say Arkanis? As in Arkanis Academy? The Deathdealers?"

"The very same, sir."

Hux was intrigued.  "Ok, say for a second I did join you: you really think I could learn how to play well enough to go up against the Deathdealers in a _week_? Really?"

"Absolutely, sir. We train everyday between afternoon and evening classes, and sometimes after dinner, and your part in it is pretty simple. It's just straight up strategy, really. Catch the ball, run it downfield, chuck it into the goal. The defenders and linemen would back you up.  You wouldn't have to worry about the heavy lifting."

"Hmm," he considered.  He knew his father would be there; he attended every one of his team's games.  He lived for it.  To be on a team that actually had a chance at showing them up... "Alright, I'm in.  Send me the schedule and I'll be there."

"Thanks! You won't regret it, sir! I promise!" Cratus ran off to report to the captain.

Hegan cackled, "No _kark_? You're really gonna do this?"

"Yeah," Hux sat up straighter, rankled by her teasing. "I said I would, so I will.  You heard the man: strategy.  I can handle that."

"Hah, yeah, I guess you can," she grinned.  "Just promise me I can come to your practice sessions."

"Deal."


	5. Chapter 5

The next week was a grueling balancing act of keeping up with his schedule and his sleep: early morning workouts with Ben, classes, study period, more classes, wedgeball practice, yet more classes, and yet more study to make up for those practices, and programming work on some of his own projects.  He had to admit, though, he'd made some good friends and thoroughly enjoyed himself in spite of his initial doubts.  Learning a sport and working together in a large team had been a surprising confidence booster.  And, before the big game, he discovered the perks of being an athlete on a star team -- a free half-day off on Pentaday to take it easy and prepare.  He spent it in practice with the team and, for once, turned in early to catch up on his sleep.

Hexaday's classes ended before lunch, which he was too nervous to eat.  Earlier in the day, he'd caught a glimpse of his father roaming the halls together with Commandant Deenlark, and it had been enough to make him second-guess his decision.  Nonetheless, he sat with his teammates and tried to let their exuberance seep into him.  They had no idea how far his father's shadow had been cast over his life, and he wasn't about to let them in on it.  He had even gone so far as to change into his uniform in the privacy of his room every day, so they wouldn't ask about the network of scars that crisscrossed his back.  At least he had his reputation as an overachiever to fall back on; none of them questioned his skipping out on locker room antics or turning up already dressed for play when they knew he had his student ranking to worry about.  And it wasn't exactly untrue.

By the time they marched into Ovrum Stadium, greeted by the cheers of tens of thousands of fans, he was feeling much better about himself. All these people shouting for him and his team filled him with a sense of power and confidence.  As each member of the team was introduced, droid cams hovered around them and transmitted their images to the HoloProjectors floating around the upper levels.  The announcers made a bigger deal out of his family ties than he had expected, but he stood tall, staring defiantly at his father as he loomed larger than the Emperor himself on screen.  Of course, he should have expected the media to be overdramatic about this kind of father-son showdown. 

Seeing Ben's warm smile in the audience helped him re-center himself and focus on the task at hand.  All of the Organas had come to watch tonight's game, and in just these last two years, they had become more of a family to him than his own had ever been.  Knowing that he had their support, no matter what tonight's outcome, gave him the strength he needed.

He sat out through the first quarter, watching as the tension mounted between the two teams.  Neither was able to score, though their respective defensive lines gave each other a merciless pounding.  The Deathdealers played dirty -- as he knew they would under his father's tutelage -- attempting to seriously injure the members of his team whenever they thought the refs weren't looking.  They were focusing on the runners in particular, more so than was normal to Hux's understanding.  He would have to be on his guard.

They called him in for the last 10 minutes of the second quarter, after neither side had managed to score.  He adjusted and double-checked the padding of his uniform, which now seemed woefully inadequate after observing the size and viciousness of the opposing team.  Hux took up his position and waited for the pass, eager to move away from the offensive linemen who were already headed his way.  The first pass went wide as someone tackled the center, and Hux took off after it, grabbing the ball and swerving out of the way before it, and he, went offsides.  He managed to avoid both of his attackers by leaping directly over them as they dove for his legs.  Being much smaller and faster than they were did seem to have its advantages, though he tripped in his haste to get away and nearly dropped the ball.  Fortunately, he recovered by going into a roll and springing out of it, coming up just behind the shot line.  He chucked the ball as hard as he could.  It arced straight into the goal.  The roar of the crowd deafened everyone.

The cameras cut from Hux's victorious fist pump to his father, stern-faced and leaning over to say something obviously dismissive of his son to Commandant Deenlark.  Hux noticed Lt. Holt seated next to them, doing his best to not look like he was eavesdropping on his father's conversation.  He could make nothing of the lieutenant's expression as he watched the replay, but it unnerved Hux to be down on the field, unable to defend himself while his father gestured contemptuously and poisoned him to anyone who would listen.  He wished the cameras would stop showing him; it was distracting, and right now his actions were the only way he could speak up for himself.

_Just stop looking. Focus!_

The cameras cut back to Hux as he stalked off the field for half-time.  He had to be more careful to guard his expressions.  Armitage couldn't bear to let his father know that he was getting to him.  He forced a smile and a wave to the crowd, and risked a glance up to the Royal Box where Ben was leaning forward, draping his arms over the front and trying to look casual.  At least he wasn't wearing that ridiculous mask so Hux could feel comforted by his silly, lopsided grin.

"Will you be alright going in for the whole second half?" Captain Tarlan asked him as he sat down on the bench.

"Yeah.  I'm good for it."

"Watch your ass out there.  They're gonna be gunning for you now."

He nodded and tried not to look over at the medics tending his injured teammates. Already 5 of his team were out of commission, including the starting runner and his back-up.  Only two of the Deathdealers had been ejected for "unsportsmanlike behavior", though it was likely that the whole team was in on it.  Hux was more surprised that any of them had been caught than that they'd tried to cheat by purposefully injuring his teammates.  His father's methods relied on subterfuge and dishonesty to get to the top.  If the players on his team were part of his core group of cadets, it meant they had literally killed to be where they were.  The Arkanis Academy wasn't just dangerous, it was deadly.  Their ruthlessness could not be underestimated.

Hux offered his insights to the team captain, and the captain agreed, adjusting their strategy accordingly.  When he jogged back onto the field, he felt less nervous but still wary.  He didn't think his father would arrange a fatal "accident" to befall him, but he had certainly tried his best to do so in the past, and Hux had no way of knowing how his resentment had festered since he'd left home and refused to return.

He had allowed his nerves to get the better of him again. In the third quarter he fumbled twice, narrowly escaping a high-impact tackle, and missed one pass entirely, which allowed Arkanis to bring the score even.  _Idiot! Get your_ kark _together! You. Can. Not. Lose. To. Him._ He held it together enough to keep from swearing out loud, but his anger infused every command shouted at the linemen for failing to keep the opposition away from him.  That he had lost his cool only made him more furious.  Beholding his father's smug self-assurance, magnified for all to see, made Hux's lip curl.

*Don't lose yourself in it.  Use it.*

Hearing Ben's voice in his head pulled him back from the edge of panic. _Right. Focus this energy. Harness it.  And for the love of all the stars in the_ fracking _galaxy, stop looking at that_ karking _projector!_

Right away, at the start of the last quarter, two Deathdealers positioned themselves as close to him as they legally could.  There were two farther upfield as well, and Hux hadn't even realized they were allowed to do that.  It was their turn on defense, and they were playing offensive positions.  He couldn't keep them all in his line of sight and hope to catch the ball too, so he put them out of mind.  The center prepared to pass, but as she made eye contact with Hux her expression pinched to that of someone about to witness a horrible accident that they could do nothing to prevent.

Hux dropped into a defensive crouch, and it was likely the only thing that saved him from serious injury as one lineman sailed over him and another plowed into him where his legs would have been, knocking them both over and rolling several times before coming to a stop.  Struggling for breath under the brutal weight of the much larger boy, Hux gasped, "Get the _frack_ off of me, oaf! I don't even have the _fragging_ ball!"

"You're not gonna, either," he grunted, pretending to fall as he got up and ramming his knee into Hux's stomach.

Hux cried out and curled up, "You cheating son of a gundark!"

"Hey! Ref! What the _frack_? You didn't see that? Come on!" Cratus protested, rushing over to check on Hux.

"It was an accident! I swear!" the lineman stood and offered his hand to Hux, who snarled and pushed himself up on his own.

Cratus helped him the rest of the way up, putting Hux's arm around his shoulder.  Captain Tarlan ran up just in time to stop a fistfight as the rest of the team gathered around and the ref issued only a warning to the Deathdealers' lineman.  Tarlan called for a timeout, and ushered Hux back to the bench.

"Are you alright? Can you go on?"

"I'm fine.  I'll be fine. Just need to catch my breath. _Frack_!"

His entire body shook with rage. He knew all cameras were either on him or showing a replay of his catastrophic failure, but at least he kept himself from looking up this time.

"Somebody ought to teach them their own game," someone muttered from behind him.

"No," Hux insisted, "We win this right or we don't win.  I better not see a single one of you playing for revenge out there or I'm out."

"Yeah, yeah." They all agreed, but reluctantly.

The crowd was relatively silent as the timeout clock counted down, waiting to see if Hux would return to the field or if the Corsairs would have to forfeit.  When he stood, straightening up to his full height despite the pain, the audience erupted in raucous cheers.  Their support and enthusiasm empowered him in a way he'd never experienced before.  It wasn't so different from how he imagined it must feel to command a fleet; power could be arrived at via many paths.

Hux leaned into the huddle before they walked back out, "If we get an opening, I'm going to come to you.  I'll go low behind our own line, give me the handoff and break the opposite direction.  That should throw them off long enough for you guys to get in there and take out whoever's following me. If they come at me, I'll pass it to Sutera to take in."

Tarlan nodded.  "They'll have to come through us to get you, and even if they don't, they'll have to split until they figure out who's got the ball.  I like it. Let's do it."

They broke the huddle and Hux waved, put on his most winning smile, and took his place on the field.

Arkanis did its best to run the clock down with heavy defense, though they seemed to sense when Hux would make his move, and started creeping toward him again.

When he got the opening he had been stalling for, he took it.  Bolting behind the scrimmage line had the desired effect.  They couldn't see where he was going, and the crowd was so loud they couldn't hear their own team members shouting about where he had gone.  He took the handoff as planned and ducked back out the way he'd come in, with Cadet Sutera hauling ass in the opposite direction.  As he came back around the defensive line, he saw his folly, though it confirmed his suspicions about his father.

Four linemen had rushed over to where they expected Hux to emerge, and slammed into Sutera as she tried to curve around the corner.  He hoped she wasn't hurt too badly, but there was nothing else he could do with less than a minute on the clock but keep running.  He put everything he had into bolting for the goal, but when he looked ahead, he saw that there was one more defender who hadn't moved, waiting for him upfield.

He tried heading toward the sidelines to draw him off, then zig-zagged back into centerfield, which worked until their trajectories met and he knew he would have to take the hit if he couldn't dive and roll out of the way fast enough.  Hux tucked the ball as securely to his chest as he could and leapt, bracing himself for impact.

Even for a last minute tackle, the lineman followed his directive to cause as much harm as possible, angling his shoulder guard and helmet directly into Hux's arm.

He heard the sharp crack of shattering bone before he felt it, and crashed into the ground, losing his grip on the ball.  He watched in horror as it sailed away.  Turning back to the lineman, harnessing the adrenaline rush that surged through him with the pain, he lashed out. Hux's vicious kicks both pushed him out from under his attacker and gave him the satisfaction of revenge.  One kick connected with the lineman's nose, and it erupted in a spurt of blood.  Hux didn't even look back once he had freed himself, half-scrambling, half-dragging himself across the grass to retrieve the ball.  He felt Ben's mind hovering at the edges of his panic but ignored him, too intent on what he had to do and knowing he had too little time left to do it.

The shock was starting to wear off, and a nauseating bout of agony welled up within him.  He stomped it down through sheer will -- _You_ must _do this.  You_ have _to win.  You_ cannot _fail in front of all these people.  You cannot let_ him _be right about you_. -- and snatched up the ball.  He wasn't right-handed, but with his left arm dangling uselessly at his side he had no other choice. 

Hux threw the ball as hard as he could, and then dropped to his knees, clutching his arm.

He didn't even see the ball go in, but from the roar of the crowd it had found its way home just before the buzzer sounded. 

A cacophony of pounding feet thundered up behind him and he cringed, half-expecting someone else to tackle him.

"Hux! You did it! You _fracking_ did it!" Cratus dropped down beside him. "Oh, _frack_ , your arm! You ok?"

"I'm ok. How's Sutera?"

Cratus looked from Hux's arm to his calm expression, and decided he must still be in shock. "She's alright, actually, but you're not. Holy Hells. Let's get you to the medics."

Cratus and the rest of the team picked him up and carried him aloft over to the first aid tent, chanting and cheering all the way. Hux grinned in spite of the pain. The sheer elation that filled him in that moment gave him enough confidence to search his father out in the audience and look him straight in the eye. He held Brendol's gaze for several seconds until the medics carried him off under the canopy.

If everything had been slow-motion before, now it was a blur of activity. A nurse droid shot him full of some kind of fast-acting stim as a medic shooed away his friends. Med droids removed his helmet and armor pads, and cut away his jersey. He tensed at having his back exposed, until he realized that the medics were too busy to care about anything other than the immediate injury at hand. Someone flashed a penlight in his eyes and someone else was tugging on his arm, but it didn't hurt until he felt it snap back into the socket. He tried to turn his head to see what was going on but the doctor held his head still and gruffly suggested, "Better if you don't look."

Hux complied, staring down at his lap instead, and noticed that the hand he'd been holding his arm with was covered in blood. It slicked his black and red glove, unnoticeable save for the occasional glint under the bright lights of the tent.

 _Frack_. _It's worse than I thought._

He lost track of time, but the noise outside had died down some, and when the medics finally moved away from him he had a shiny, transparisteel Bacta pod around his upper arm. The nurse droid fastened a sling around his neck and hovered around him, checking its work before draping a blanket over his shoulders.

"Report to the infirmary after lunch every day for the next three days for Bacta therapy. The fracture should be healed within three days. The shoulder dislocation will mend on its own between 4 and 6 weeks. Try to limit all use of your arm for at least two weeks. You'll check back with me at the four week mark for final clearance to resume your normal duties."

"But, I've SERE this week and a mission immediately following, sir."

"Are you asking me for a writ of medical leave, Cadet?"

"No, sir." Asking for medical leave might as well be asking for expulsion at the Royal Imperial Academy.

"Then I hope you're either right-handed or a quick study."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then, you're good to go."

"Yes, sir."

The nurse droid dispensed 3 stim packs and instructed him in their use, and as it moved aside he saw Commandant Deenlark and Lt. Holt enter the tent. Brendol Hux was not with them, though Armitage wasn't sure why he thought he would have been. _He's probably busy berating his team for losing to me_. Hux suddenly felt sorry for the Deathdealers. No one deserved to be subjected to his father's fits of rage.

As the commandant came closer, Hux jumped up to salute but teetered from the residual effects of the painkiller, executing it less than perfectly. "Commandant Deenlark, Lieutenant Holt. My apologies, sirs."

"None needed. Have a seat, Mr. Hux," Deenlark said.

"Yes, sir."

"I've just come to commend your fine performance this evening, and let you know that you and your team have earned yourselves a half-day off tomorrow. From the looks of things, you need it.  Enjoy the rest of your night, and keep up the good work. I've been hearing good things about you."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

They nodded and turned to go, stopping to bow to someone standing outside.  Hux stood again, this time bracing himself against the table. Anakin entered, followed by a worried Ben.

"My Princes, you honor me with your visit." Hux bowed.

Ben looked distraught over having to act as if Hux's injury didn't bother him. As long as other people were around, they had to play it safe. Just acquaintances, nothing more. Though he smiled when he caught a glimpse of the leather cuff on Hux's wrist, peeking out from the top of the sling. Ben had made it for him shortly after they'd gotten together. He didn't realize that Hux actually wore it while in school; surely it was in violation of the uniform policy.

"That was quite a game," Anakin said, "I think just the prospect of seeing _you_ playing a sport was enough for everyone, let alone winning!" He noticed the bulge of the Bacta pod under the blanket.  "That bad, huh?"

"So it seems."

"Hey, you wanna join us for dinner tonight?" Ben finally spoke up. "We're all heading out to the Skysitter."

"Oh, I— thank you, My Prince, but I couldn't possibly—" not only could he not afford it, he was certain it wouldn't be proper for him to ditch the team on their winning night, even if he would prefer a quiet, cultured night out. "I think the team has plans for the evening, and I'm quite sure I'm in no shape to be seen in such an establishment."

*Come on, Tage, I know you want to. We're not gonna be there for at least another two hours.  Mother has to go home and change, of course.* Ben mentally pleaded, *It's our treat. You have a victory to celebrate. And I have just the thing you can wear.*

"But, I suppose I could put some time in with the team and then join you later, if that's alright?"

"Sure." Anakin said, fully aware that Ben was silently convincing Hux to come along. "I'd say you have a few hours at least. Ben can pick you up when you're ready."

"Thank you, My Princes; it's an honor.  I'll do my best to be presentable."

Hux gathered his things and walked out to join his waiting teammates after the twins had gone.

"How is it?" Cratus and several others asked.

"Worse than I thought, but I'll live."

"Man, I'm so sorry. I feel like it's my responsibility after I told you you'd be safe and all."

"No, it's all on me. I know how my father runs things. I don't know why I thought they'd play fair."

"Well, you showed them! Man, was he _pissed_ ," Tarlan laughed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, as soon as it was over he took off. Walked right off on the Deen'. Then when we were all lined up for team farewells he screamed at them all the way off the field. You could hear him all the way down in the locker room. He's probably still doing it."

Hux only shook his head. "I sort of feel sorry for them now."

" _Frack_ 'em." Sutera spat. "They got what they deserved after the way they played. That's the most injuries we've had all season!"

"Hey, speaking of which, you need any help with your stuff?" Cratus asked.

"I need to hit the showers. After that, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure thing. You guys go ahead. We'll catch up." Cratus waved to the others and followed Hux back to the locker room.

He managed to duck into the shower before he could be seen, since Cratus offered to run the blanket back to the first aid station, but he realized he was going to need help getting his shirt on, and there was no way Cratus would fail to notice his scars. He was a young, enthusiastic first year who was far too curious for his own good, and Hux doubted he'd have the self-control not to mention it.

Sometimes he hated being right.

"Thirty Hells, Hux. Was that from your speeder bike accident?"

Hux frowned. _How did he even know about that?_ "No."

"Oh, sorry." Cratus picked up on the terseness in his voice and let it drop.

Cratus could be naive but he wasn't stupid, and it looked like he was putting two and two together, so after an awkward pause Hux added, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to the others."

"Oh, of course not. I'm sorry I— I didn't mean to pry."

"Don't worry about it. And thanks for your help."

"Hey, anytime."

Even though they were officially on their own time now, Hux took a moment to look up and double-check his understanding of uniform protocol on his datapad.  Confirming that it was permissible to half-wear, half-drape his outer tunic over his shoulder (since it wouldn't fit over the Bacta pod) he finished dressing and followed Cratus out to a nearby sports bar.

Hegan and Dlarit were there as well, as well as a few others from his class. After a toast and an obligatory Corellian brandy, Hux had to admit he was actually enjoying himself. He never thought he'd be the kind of person with friends, let alone over 20 of them. Hegan even asked him to dance, and the novelty of the suggestion convinced him to give it a whirl. Hux didn't know much more than classical ballroom dance but he managed, and what he couldn't, he could blame on the painkillers.

After about an hour, though, he was ready for something a bit less hectic. Just in time, his comm unit beeped and Ben informed him that he was on his way. Hux went around and said his apologies and goodbyes, and walked down to the end of the block to wait. A few minutes later, Ben roared to a stop on his red and black speeder bike. Hux took a moment to appreciate both the fancy customization of the chassis and engines, and its rider.

"Miss me?" Ben smirked, hopping off to stow Hux’s bag and back on again.

"Always."

Hux climbed on behind him and leaned in close to make sure he could get a good grip around Ben's waist with only one arm. "Don't go too fast, ok?"

He could feel Ben's stomach ripple with laughter. "Hah! _You_ , of all people, telling someone to slow down! That's _fracking_ rich!"

Admittedly, he did have a reputation. "I'd rather I didn't fall to my death tonight, is all."

"Tage, I'll never let you fall."

Hux smiled and rested his cheek on Ben's shoulder as they raced off into the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner was a lovely, if somewhat tense affair. The Organas were welcoming and gracious as always, but Hux knew he had to be on his absolute best behavior in such an establishment, and he was terrified of dropping his fork or doing something equally as embarrassing. He felt like a pompous git in the off-shoulder, gilded, black cloak Ben had lent him, but it had covered up his unsightly sling and unforgivably sloppy uniform, and it hadn't been as out of place as he expected.  Hux tried not to stare at the immaculately dressed crowd, but he was, aside from perhaps the kitchen staff, the lowest-ranked being present. Fortunately, the staff were very attentive and treated him as if he belonged there every bit as much as the de facto Empress herself who sat just across from him.  They had also been made aware of his injury in advance; everything they served had already been cut or shaped into bite-sized pieces to spare him the humiliation of having to ask. This place well deserved the praise it received.

The aptly-named Skysitter Restaurant topped a 1000-meter tall spire overlooking Coruscant's Senate District, and it was easily the most expensive and famous restaurant in the galaxy. All of Imperial Center (and beyond) glittered below them, as if their positions between earth and space had been reversed and they lazily dined above a field of stars. The music varied between Sith opera and Kuati classical, lending the perfect ambiance for the smoky, rich meats and rare fruits they enjoyed.

Turr Phennir regaled them with tales of his days as a wedgeball champion at the Academy. Ben rolled his eyes, but Hux nodded in rapt attention and asked all the right questions. He’d never really paid attention to or cared for sports until now. As it turned out, game strategy was equally relevant to military strategy, and Hux was more than happy to have yet another weapon in his mental arsenal.  What had started as just a way to prove himself to his father had become a genuine interest, and he hoped that he would be asked back next season.

As the night drew to a close, Ben dawdled long enough to let the elevator fill up in front of them, so he and Hux could take a private trip down to the landing pad. As soon as the doors closed, Ben slid his arms around Hux’s waist and nuzzled into his neck, looking over his shoulder at the gorgeous view below.

*Someday, all of this will be ours,* he whispered in Hux’s mind.

“Ours?”

*Well, if you still want me when I’m Emperor, that is.* Ben chuckled.

“I don’t know. I might be too busy being a grand admiral,” Hux smirked.

“You will be an excellent grand admiral.”

“Hah! What do you know about it?”

“I know you. And I know Anakin. And I know you’ve bested him in just about everything but hand-to-hand combat at school, and you aren't even Force-sensitive.  All he does when he’s home is play strategy games and study, so if you’ve beaten him, then I know you’re good. Besides, why would I even be attracted to you if I thought you couldn't hold your own with me? You're amazing in every way.”

“Hmm.” Hux was pleased to hear that it wasn’t as easy for Anakin as he made it seem, but he was even more surprised to discover that Ben held him up as an equal. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

They arrived at the landing platform, and a valet droid brought Ben’s speeder bike around. The rest of Ben’s family had already left and no one else was present, so Hux turned and kissed Ben fiercely.  He tasted of expensive wine, though Hux was more drunk on his praise than anything they'd imbibed.  

Ben leaned into the kiss but continued to let Hux take the lead, ecstatic that he'd seized the opportunity without Ben's usual prompting. A _ding_ behind them signaled the arrival of another elevator, so he reluctantly pulled away and got on the speeder.

Hux enjoyed the brisk feel of the night air on his face as they sped back to the Imperial Palace. The dull ache in his arm had surfaced again on the way out of the restaurant and he was exhausted, as much from the mental strain of being overly social as all the physical ordeals he had endured.  Loathe though he was to not take advantage of every minute he got alone with Ben, all he wanted right now was sleep.

When they got back, Ben helped him get undressed and settled in bed. The trail of tingling kisses he left on Hux's neck indicated he wanted more than just sleep. Even though Hux wanted the same -- trying to ignore the growing hardness in his basics -- he was too tired. "I'm sorry, Ben. I'm just too tired. Maybe in the morning?"

"Sure. Sure." He snuggled in behind Hux and slid an arm around his thin waist. "G'night."

"Good night." Hux relaxed, lulled into sleep by the warm, even breath on his neck.

He woke a few hours later, the throbbing in his arm having elevated to nauseating levels.  The tension had worked its way down his spine and up his neck as well.  Against all rational thought, feeling trapped and constricted, he wanted to move his arm into a different position, but just tensing the muscles drew a low moan from him.

Not wanting to disturb Ben, he stayed where he was. _I've been through worse. Besides, SERE is this week, and surely this won't even compare. If I can't handle a little pain now..._

Hux didn't know how long he lay there, but eventually Ben shifted and kissed the nape of his neck.  "Tage, you awake?"

He tried to answer in the affirmative, but only groaned.

As the full weight of Hux's pain settled over him, Ben realized what had pulled him from his dreams.  "Stars, you need a painkiller."

"No. It's ok."

"Ok?" Ben pushed himself up onto one elbow. Hux could feel his incredulous stare. "Tage, it's bad enough that it woke me up."

"Oh. Sorry." Hux moved to sit up.

"Sion's sake! You don't have to apologize. No, I'll get it. Stay there."

"Can you always feel me or can you turn that off? Tune me out or something?"

"Why would I do that?" Hux could hear him rummaging around in his bag.

"Front pocket. You'll have to this week. We have SERE training."

"What's that?" The bed bounced slightly with his weight as Ben returned and leaned over, pressing the cartridge into Hux's shoulder.  He cringed at even the lightest touch, but a few seconds after the soft _pshhh_ of the injection Hux felt as if he were floating.

"Resisting interrogations and trying to escape. Basically they want to know how easy it is to break us."

"So... they actually torture you?"

"I don't know for certain; it's all very secretive. I would assume to some extent, yes. Psychologically, for sure. They will undoubtedly try to break our morale and turn us against each other. Possibly chemically and physically as well, I'd imagine. We have to be prepared for what it will really be like if we're ever taken prisoner."

" _Frack_."

"Yeah. So, I'd rather you weren't privy to it if you are able to shut it out."

"Shouldn't they give you some kind of medical leave?"

"Would the enemy?"

"Huh. Good point. Yeah, I can disconnect myself from your feelings. It's just that I'm so used to sensing you like that... If it's something really strong I might feel it anyway."  

"Well, I guess what I'm getting at is: don't come running if you feel like I'm in danger. Even if... _when_ I break and I want you to. You can't. You'll have to ignore me no matter what. It's just something I have to do."

Ben's reluctance was heavy on his tongue, "Understood."

"I'll be fine. I promise. They need us. They're not going to hurt us too badly."

Ben settled in against him once more, running a hand over his shoulder and down his back. For a moment, Hux thought Ben was finally going to ask about his scars. In the two years that they'd been friends, he hadn't mentioned them, though now would have been an opportune time. He didn't.  Instead, he muttered, "Damn, Tage, don't you ever relax?"

"I am relaxed."

"Your back is like a durasteel cable! You have more knots in you than a cancerous Baragwin. Here, sit up for a minute."

Ben arranged all the pillows in Hux's lap so he could rest on something soft, and shifted around to sit cross-legged behind him. Hux heard a click and then the sound of Ben rubbing something slick vigorously between his hands. A subdued, floral scent wafted through the air. Hux jumped and tensed slightly as large, powerful hands began kneading into the ridge just above his hips and worked their way up either side of his spine.

"Are you ok? Am I hurting you?"

"No." He relaxed into the strange, comforting touch. "It's... nice."

"Have you never had a massage before?"

"No." As Ben started rubbing the spot under the constricting band of the sling, he moaned. "Oh, Ben, that's—" he exhaled in a long, drawn out sigh, for lack of words. His eyelids felt heavy, so he closed them and let himself drift forward into the pillows. Hux normally didn't like it when anyone touched him, but he felt so safe in Ben's hands. Even so, he was certain he wasn't letting go properly.

Ben chuckled and worked up to his shoulder blades, softening and slowing his technique so as not to aggravate his injury. "You've been missing out. Next time we finish training, I'm calling in the professionals so we can both get done."

"That would be wonderful," he murmured into the pillows.

Rolling around a particularly taut sinew under his thumbs, Ben whispered, "Tage, you have to relax."

"I am." His protest was muffled by the expensive linens.

"Focus on where my hands are now. Feel that? Unclench that muscle; let go."

"I can't. It'll hurt if I drop my arm."

"Don't be afraid. Trust me. I won't hurt you."

Even though he had embraced the Dark Side of the Force, Ben could still seem so innocent sometimes.  He had no idea how difficult a request he was asking of Hux: to believe that someone wouldn't hurt him... Hux had never had a single person in his life that he could fully open up to or trust in that regard. He wanted to sneer that he wasn't afraid but he _was,_ less of the pain than that he would be let down yet again. He cared for Ben too much to take that chance. That in itself was hard enough to accept. Nonetheless, he felt obligated to try.

A preemptive whimper escaped him as he released the tension in his shoulder. As promised, Ben supported him with one hand and continued to work on him with the other. There was no pain.

"There. Just like that. See?" Ben purred, seemingly unaware of the huge step that had just been taken in their relationship. "How is it?"

"Mmm," was all he could say as he started to drift back into blissful unconsciousness. Hux was dimly aware of Ben manipulating the tightness from his neck, then finally easing him back down to the softness of the bed. In a distant corner of his mind he couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to be so vulnerable to another being, but he felt too good to care anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

When Hux woke the next morning, he was surprised to discover that it wasn't morning at all. His alarm hadn't gone off, and he was alone in bed. 12:13 blinked on the display beside him. He sat up in a panic, forgetting about his injuries until the flash of pain reminded him of what he'd done last night, and that it had earned him half a day off. Still, he'd been told to report to the infirmary after lunch, and he couldn't bear the thought of being late.

He listened for the sounds of a presence, but Ben's room was as quiet as an Arkanisian graveyard, designed to keep noises and distractions out as much as in. Hux showered, injected his last hypospray, and got dressed as quickly as he could manage. Anakin was just sitting down to lunch as Hux hurried past.

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "Did you just get up?"

"About 20 minutes ago. Where's Ben?"

"He went out to do something with father this morning. I thought he'd be back by now."

Hux wanted to swear but he kept his composure. He didn't want to have to ask Anakin for a favor, but it was a long walk to the Academy. Although not completely unexpected, when he'd checked his credit chip he'd discovered that his father had cut him off from everything but his commissary funds.  He couldn't afford a taxi.

"Everything alright?"

"I've got to check in with the doc after lunch and I—" His pride would not allow him to explain why he couldn't just take a taxi as usual. "I overslept and I'm going to be late."

"I can run you back. Just let me finish this. You might as well help yourself, too."

"Sure. Thank you." Hux sat down and bit into a piece of fruit he didn't recognize. The taste was unexpectedly bitter, but he quite liked it. "How was class?"

"Lt. Dolt had us run TIE bomber sims all morning."

Hux snickered at Anakin's nickname for their obdurate instructor. "Isn't Heptaday parade ground drills this month?"

"That didn't stop him."

"Hah. Why am I not surprised? Did he say anything else about SERE?"

"Just that it's starting on Monday and, 'by the Emperor, I don't care what kind of game we had this weekend, you maggots had best not roll in hungover for it.'"

Anakin's dead-on impression of Holt got a chuckle out of him.

"Let me guess: Hegan?"

"Yeah. She was pretty trashed this morning."

They finished up their lunch and Anakin flew Hux directly to the infirmary, using his royal influence to bypass the "no student speeders in the inner campus" rule. Hux thanked him and bolted into the doctor's waiting room, arriving one minute early much to his relief. The doc looked him over and prescribed three more stim packs for the pain, which Hux turned down. "You sure you don't want a medical release for this week?"

The more the doc insisted, the more uneasy Hux became. "Would the enemy give me a break?"

The doc shrugged. "Alright, I get it. Look, kid, I know you've been through some shit and you think you're tough enough to handle it. _Frack_ , for all I know you are, but here's the thing: there's no shame in getting whatever edge you can on this. You're gonna break, but the longer you last, the better it looks for you."

Hux frowned and gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

"Promise me you'll at least take one of these before bed tonight. You're gonna need your sleep." He handed Hux a stim cartridge.

"Yes, sir."

On the way out he encountered Dlarit in the waiting room. She looked terrible. "Still hungover?" He smiled.

"I've been sick since the game yesterday. Came down with something killer." As if to emphasize the seriousness of it, she punctuated the last statement with a sneeze and a sniffle.

"Sorry to hear that. Hope you get something to clear it up."

"How's the arm?"

"I'm managing."

The doc called her in, and Hux decided to have a seat and wait for her. He'd walk her back to their room at least, knowing how much it sucked to be sick and alone.

She reappeared a few minutes later, a few stims in hand, looking surprised to see him still sitting there. "Did you forget something?"

"No. Just thought you might want some company on the way back."

She smiled. "Thanks."

They took their time getting back to the dorm; Hux suspected Dlarit felt worse than she let on, and he wasn't exactly in top condition himself. In the room, he helped her get back into bed. It was clear she'd been there all day from the rumpled state of the sheets. He moved over to their small kitchenette to put the kettle on and dug through his locker for a small packet of dried leaves he kept in his first aid kit. A few minutes later he had a strong, but not unpleasant tea brewed.

"What's that?" Dlarit asked as she caught a whiff of the minty scent.

"My mother used to make this for me when I was little. I got sick a lot as a kid. This always helped."  

He brought over a cup of the steaming concoction and Dlarit sipped it slowly. "Thanks. It's good."

"There's more in the kettle if you need it." He grabbed his datapad and custom tool kit but paused, realizing he was being rude. "Actually, would you like me to stay?"

"No. If you've got something to do, don't waste your day off in here. I'm just going to back to sleep anyway."

He wanted to be a good friend, but he felt a bit awkward and useless in this kind of situation, so he was mildly relieved she didn't want him to stick around. "Alright. If you're sure. Need anything before I go?"

"I'm good, thanks."

" _Kasta stellva'ra._ "

"That sounds nice. What does it mean?"

"It's something my mother said. I guess it translates to something like, 'Get well soon,' but apparently its origins hail from an old religious blessing that's a bit darker than that."

"Oh?"

"'Don't die in your sleep.'"

"Well. That's cheery."

He shrugged.

"At least it sounds pretty. Anyway, goodnight and thanks for the tea."

"Anytime."

For the rest of the day Hux spent his free time working on his speeder bike. Seeing Ben's modifications had given him some ideas for customizations. Just as he was about to chuck a spanner over how frustrating it was to work with only one arm, Ben roared up on his speeder and parked next to him.

"Hey, sorry about this morning," he said, pulling off his helmet to reveal perfectly flowing hair. (Hux suspected he practiced in front of a mirror.) "Dad wanted me to run some errands and I didn't want to wake you." He said breathlessly, as if he'd run there instead of flying.

"Did you turn off my alarm?"

"Yeah. I figured you needed your sleep."

"Damn it, Ben! I nearly missed my appointment! What if I'd had classes?"

"Sorry,” Ben rubbed the back of his neck, “I thought you were off today."

"I was, but that's beside the point."

"Well, _frack_ , Hux, you're the only person I've ever seen who can look exhausted _in their sleep_."

Hux sighed. He _had_ needed the rest. "Come here and help me with this."

Ben did his penance in silence as Hux worked, handing him the necessary tools and holding parts up or in place whenever Hux needed an extra hand. When night fell, they walked their speeders into the engineering bay to finish up under the bright work lights.

"How much longer you gonna be at this? I can run for some take out."

"Sure, how about some Rodian?" Hux went to fish his credit chip out before he remembered. "Ah, actually... maybe I'll just grab something in the cafeteria, since it's more convenient."

Ben regarded him with suspicion, but didn't call him on his bluff. "Rodian sounds good. I'll get us something we can share."

"Ben, I—"

"Don't worry about it, Tage." He said with a finality that meant he knew.

Hux felt his face color with shame and turned back to his speeder before Ben could see. "People already think I take advantage of my friendship with you. I don't want to start actually doing it."

"You're not. Someday you'll take me out to dinner. I'm holding you to it."

Hux laughed at the thought. He wouldn't be able to afford the kind of restaurants Ben frequented for a long time yet. "Alright. I won't forget it, you know."

"I know. So, _meeps_ on the side? No _kabarl_?"

"Please."

Ben nodded and dashed off on his bike, and Hux amused himself with the thought that he'd essentially just turned a prince of one of the oldest noble houses, and of the Empire itself, into a delivery boy. It was one of those humbling moments that made you question your place in the universe. He wondered, if he had stayed on Arkanis, graduated from his father's academy, and then risen through the ranks to serve, would he ever have met Ben? Would they still have been attracted to each other, if so? It was just another reason he was glad he'd gotten out from under his father's thumb.

He knew his father had pulled strings to get his application to the Royal Imperial Academy denied.

And it had been.

Hux had the ranking and the marks to get in, as he'd proven time and again since his first day on Coruscant. However, he was certain that everyone else thought his phenomenal scores at the Arkanis Academy Preparatory School had been due simply to being Brendol's son. They had no idea what his father was really like. Brendol Hux was a hateful, vicious man, but even while suffering under his relentless cruelty, Armitage had no doubt that his father thought he was helping him. Brendol didn't care that he was hurting, even killing him (if Hux were honest with himself), because he was convinced he was right. It never crossed his dogmatic, obstinate mind that no one around him would ever take his son seriously, no matter what hells he put him through. If Hux hadn't applied to the academy on Coruscant, he might never have had a chance to escape his father's shadow and prove himself. He would never have been accepted as anything but a second-rate lieutenant from some back-water Outer Rim planet.

So Hux had never felt even a twinge of remorse over having sliced the Office of Student Admissions' records computer to have his application approved. In fact, he'd put it out of mind less than a day after he'd been officially contacted, admitted, and issued his student handbook. That he had gotten away with it proved once more that he deserved to be there. Although, he swore to himself that it would be the one and only dishonorable act he would ever allow himself to perpetrate.

Ben returned less than an hour later with boxes of steaming, sticky noodles. The two of them kept working while they ate, occasionally having to reach over and stab at an escaping meep. The squirmy tentacle bits had a tendency to wriggle around long after they'd been cooked. Hux liked them, but he couldn't think about it too much or it would turn his stomach. In his short time on Coruscant, Ben had gotten Hux to try so many foods that fell outside of his comfort zone. A lot of them he actually enjoyed, too, despite his learned preference for bland Arkanisian cuisine. He still couldn't handle the really spicy stuff that Ben enjoyed so much.

After dinner, his repairs and tweaks complete, Hux was eager to test them out. He invited Ben out to the school track for a race. They tore around the circuit at dangerous speeds, having no need to avoid the live-fire areas which were shut down on the weekend. Hux won, as usual. Even Ben didn't dare to attempt half the reckless maneuvers Hux executed with precision.

His shoulder was starting to hurt again, but he noted with satisfaction that Ben didn't seem to notice.  He must have already disconnected himself from whatever part of the Force allowed him to be aware of Hux's state of mind.

"I should probably go and get ready for bed."

"Wow, two whole nights of complete rest? You'd better watch out, Hux, or people will start thinking you're human."

"I don't think we're in any danger of that."

"So, how long is this SERE thing supposed to last?"

"I'm not sure. They told us it would be a week, but nothing more specific than that. I'm guessing until Hexaday afternoon at least? Better call it Heptaday, just to be sure."

"Alright," Ben said, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of being closed off from Hux for so long.

Not being Force-sensitive, Hux didn't understand why it was such a big deal, though he was flattered that it seemed to mean so much to Ben. He wondered what it must feel like to know without a doubt what your partner was feeling and thinking. It bothered him that he couldn't detect any difference whether Ben was "connected" to him or not. "You said once before that my thoughts were 'loud'. Is that just because you like me and want to know what I'm thinking, or could anyone hear me?"

"Hmm, well, I guess part of it is because of that, but also you think very clearly. Your thoughts have such an order about them. I guess someone wouldn't have to try very hard to hear you. Sometimes I'm not even trying, but it's almost as if you said it out loud."

"How does that work?"

"Ok, so, for example: if I want to know a password for something, I don't even have to do or say anything. Whoever is asking me, 'What's the password?' will immediately think of the password itself right after that. They think it because they're going to compare it to whatever I say, so it's their 'loudest' thought. It's right there on the surface, and when that happens, sometimes even Force users can't tell that someone is reading them. That's why we learn to guard our thoughts. It doesn't always work, but we learn to tell when someone is looking around in our heads."

"Could you teach me to do that? Guard my thoughts and keep people out? Or tell when they're doing it?"

"Yes, but it would only be effective against people who were attempting a casual read. If someone really wants in, you'll know but you won't be able to stop them completely."

"That's better than nothing."

Ben seemed surprised and a little bit suspicious. "Could you tell that I'm not doing it today?"

"Only because my arm has been starting to hurt for about an hour now, and my pain seems to cause you distress, but you haven't said anything about it. I can't tell otherwise. I only know when you say, or don't say, something related to my thoughts."

"Ok. The easiest thing you can do is to go on the assumption that none of your thoughts or feelings are ever private. You have to start thinking in code, as if you were trying to pass a hidden message to someone. Secondly, you're pretty good with psychology already, so you have to be aware of what kinds of things trigger certain thoughts or emotions in you and be prepared for them. You can't always avoid them, and it takes a lot of practice, but it's easier to do in a situation like, say, an interrogation where you expect to be questioned. Your feelings are a distraction and they will give you away every time."

Hux nodded. "So, in our password example: now that I know your trick I could avoid it by coding the password in my mind, since it already know I won't be able to not think of it."

"Exactly. And the more levels of coding you put on it, the more secure it will be. Do you want to try?"

"Yes."

"Ok, but you should know that I might find things out that you don't want me to know. Now, just my saying that has probably caused you to think of something. Don't worry, I haven't started yet," Ben smiled at Hux's frown of frustration. "But, in order to be effective training, I'm going to ask you things to try and distract you so you can get used to it and learn to control your reactions. I'm sorry, but it's necessary. One way you can tell that someone is looking for information is that you'll start thinking of something out of nowhere; something completely unrelated, but possibly related to the false thought trail you've encoded. Also, deeper level probing can be painful, even traumatic. That's the kind you can only avoid for so long without being Force-sensitive. I won't do that to you. I'll say out loud what I'm finding, and if you feel like I'm getting too close to something, just think 'stop'. If you feel afraid or embarrassed at all, I'll stop anyway. Ok?"

"Alright."

"So, let's say you're being questioned. You have access codes to a shield generator. Jot something down on your datapad, then think of a way to recall that code, but in a way unique to you. For example, synesthetics see colors for numbers, so 3-2-2-7-1 they can think of as blue-red-red-orange-pink, or something."

Hux made up a code and matched it to the intervals in a song he liked. Worrying that it might be too obvious, he thought about the first time he'd heard that particular piece of music. He spent a few seconds repeating the association in his mind, so that when asked he thought of that mental image instead of the numbers themselves. "Ok. I'm ready."

Ben turned to sit cross-legged in front of him and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he looked straight into Hux's eyes, where he saw something in Ben's gaze he'd never noticed before. A calculating coldness.

"Tell me the access code."

In his mind, Hux was wandering in a forest. It had just started to rain, and the earthy scent of damp leaves infused the humid air. Someone, a woman in the distance, was singing a song.

Ben frowned and commented, "I see a forest, a dim path in the mist. The smell is familiar, and you're not afraid though it's getting dark. It must be your homeworld."

Hux, dismayed that it had been so easy to deduce such information already felt a twinge of disappointment.

"Yes," Ben curled his lip in a sinister smile, "You're disappointed that you're so easy to read. That means I'm correct about it being Arkanis."

Sneering, getting angry now, Hux focused instead on how he felt then, trying to reclaim the calm and sense of wonder that drove him onward toward the unknown singer.

"Your anger only confirms it further. But you're still there, moving towards a sound. Someone is singing. You like what you're hearing. You want to learn it. Ah, that's very clever, hiding a code in a song."

He thought it had been too obvious a choice, but now that he couldn't stop thinking about it, the inevitable progression led him to hear the exact portion that represented the access code over and over. Hux panicked.

"There. Now I have it. Fear will sell you out every time." Ben listened and tried to hum back the phrase he was hearing. "4-5-1-1—"

 _Stop_!

Ben pulled back immediately. "Ok. I'm out."

Hux trembled like the leaves under the soft rain he'd just imagined. He shook his head. "It's impossible. I thought that song was obscure enough you'd never figure it out. But you were hardly even trying!"

Taking his hand, Ben reassured him, "No, that was really good, actually. I hadn't expected that at all.  I didn't know the song, but once I got you to panic, you couldn't help thinking of it. I used your emotions to lead me to what I wanted. If you had been able to stay calm, I wouldn't have figured that out. Self-doubt, frustration, anger: those are the first steps. Once you become afraid it's only a matter of time. Panic tells me I'm seconds away from the truth. Without emotion, I might have guessed that the song contained the code, maybe even the specific fragment, but because I didn't know the song I would have to reliably hum it for someone to record it and then have someone else analyze it. You would have bought your side enough time to change the codes by the time we discovered them. It's brilliant, really. This kind of thing works well when someone knows you have information they want, or if you know you have it and have to protect it."

"But how do I, I don't know, turn off my feelings?"

"Practice. Lots of practice."

"Let's do it again then."

"Ok. I didn't get the whole code, I think, so let's stick with this same scenario. We'll pretend I've had someone go off and analyze it, and now they've come back to me with inconclusive data, so I'm having another go at you."

Hux took a deep breath to re-center himself and nodded. "Ok. Go ahead."

"Cadet Hux, have you ever cheated on an exam?"

"What?" Indignation flared up at the unexpected question, but this time he felt Ben's presence in his mind. It felt as though his anger had opened a door, and Ben had jammed a wedge into it to keep it open. A sort of tension, like the beginning of a headache, signaled Ben’s sifting through his thoughts. It was uncomfortable, but not terribly painful. Yet.

"Of course not," he countered, regaining his calm. "I believe my record stands for itself."  Hux visualized himself confidently pushing the door closed the more he talked. "You can ask any of my superiors. I believe they will vouch for my abilities."

"Good. You felt it that time, didn't you? I could feel you pushing back against me."

"How did I do that on only my second try? Is it really that simple?"

"The mind is a pretty incredible thing. Once you know someone's tactics, it's much harder for you to fall for them. To be fair, I wasn't pushing very hard." Ben read Hux's silence rather than his mind.  "You want to know what it's like. A real push."

He hesitated, "I do."

"I might see something you don't want me to. It's very likely, actually."

"I—" he took a deep breath and let it out shakily, "I trust you."

"Are you—" Ben stopped, realizing what a big admission that was for someone as guarded as Hux. He didn’t want to question him on it, but he had to be certain. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Ok. It's going to hurt. A lot. And it won't be a pain that you've experienced before, so you won't have any way to guard against it. It's not physical; it's more of a mental anguish. I will try to go slowly, but once I break through it will be... chaotic for you. It happens almost instantly once your barriers are down. It will pull up things you might have suppressed for a long time, or even forgotten, or maybe never even realized affected you."

Hux's hand reflexively curled into a fist as Ben described the process.

"This is where torture becomes extremely effective. If you're distracted by pain, sleep deprived, exhausted, you can't think clearly. Thoughts drift in and out. Whereas torture is almost useless to non-Force-sensitives, because you'll say anything to make it stop, your mind will be an open playground for someone who wants to read it. The only thing you'll be thinking about is the one thing you have to protect. It's right there, on the surface, for the taking. Obviously, I'm not going to hurt you, but you should be aware of that, too. Since you said your arm hurts, it's kind of a good chance for you to practice keeping those things out of your mind. Code them like you did earlier, but with more and more layers. You won't be able to do that now, but once you've felt how this works, it will be easier for you."

He let out another shuddering breath. "Ok."

"I'm sorry. I know that even my explaining this has already brought up things you'd rather not think about. Take a few minutes to prepare. Find a happy memory, or, conversely, something that you think would really bother me. If you can imagine things your interrogators hate, they'll have a harder time seeing past it."

Hux nodded and closed his eyes, trying to recall a different, pleasurable memory from his homeworld to distract from the one he'd used as a cover. It was difficult. He didn't have many to choose from that didn't somehow end up tainted by his father's efforts. _No, stop thinking about him. You're meant to hide that._ He sighed in frustration. _Ok, maybe not Arkanis, then. Something else. Ah! Breaking that speeder record!_

"Ok. I'm ready."

He tried to tune out Ben's voice as he demanded to know the access codes. His tone had a sharpness to it that Hux had never heard before. The same demanding, intense tone that his father had when he was ramping up to a tirade. _No. Stay with the race._ Ben's first attempt came concurrently with the thought of his father, like a needle being thrust in at his temple. The pain continued to build as Ben threaded his needle and followed the filament of thought. Images of his father kept surfacing but Hux fought back, focusing on the exhilarating twists and turns of the course, his heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through his veins as real blaster bolts whizzed overhead, the utter freedom he felt in the heat of the race, where nothing mattered but speed, reflexes, and whatever lie around the next corner.

Disparate thoughts entered his mind, as if a racer on a second track had appeared to challenge him.  These thoughts surfaced in his own voice. It wasn't the same as Ben speaking to him telepathically, bough he could feel him digging in. The pain escalated to that of a sudden and piercing migraine. _So freedom is important to you. That means there was a time when you were not free. Trapped.  Desperate to escape. Like an animal._ _You would do anything to be free._ Even in his happiness, Ben had found a negative thread to follow. He pulled at it now, like stitches over deep but slightly healed gash being yanked open. His pain was raw, exposed, instant, eclipsing all other thoughts that jumbled together at once. _You know this pain. It's as familiar as a friend. It was your only friend for so long.  Your father. Your own flesh and blood did this to you._

Hux was four the first time his father struck him. _No_! The betrayal of love and trust had been worse than the pain, but there would be more. _Stop_! Hux was eight the first time he was publicly lashed. _Get out_! Bone gleaming white as the rain washed streams of blood down his skinny waist. _Please_! Hux was twelve when the first cadet came after him. _Ben! Please!_ He had fought so hard, but the older boy had been so much stronger. _Don't! Not that! BEN!_ Later that night, Hux had snuck into the cadet's room with a vibroknife...

The images stopped as abruptly as they had flashed through his head. Hux was left trembling and sobbing, clutching his head.

"Tage, I'm sorry! Are you—"

"You said you would stop!"

"I did! Oh, stars, Tage, I'm so, so sorry!"

"I don't want your _fracking_ pity! What did you see? Tell me you didn't see...!"

"No, no, I got out, I mean, I tried, it was so fast, I saw... it was just flashes. I don't want to think about it. I'll put it out of mind, I won't think about it. I'm sorry, Tage."

Hux was quiet for a long, tense moment. "No." He scrubbed at his eyes. "It's not your fault. You warned me. I knew the risks. I said I trusted you and... I do."

Ben reached out to take his hand, slowly, in case he wanted to pull away. He didn't.

"Just, please... don't pity me. I could never face you again. It happened. It's done. It won't happen again."

"I won't. I mean, I don't. I just wish I hadn't... made you remember that. I should have known... somehow. I don't know. I swear I didn't know. I wasn't trying to... I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Hux nodded, sniffling. He held his breath and closed his eyes again, thankful that there were no afterimages to haunt him. Exhaling, feeling more in control, he gathered his things and stood up. He only just realized where he was -- right out in the open where anyone could have seen...

"It's alright, there was no one here. No one heard."

"Heard...?" Hux frowned and blushed in shame.

"You screamed. Really loud. I thought I'd killed you."

"I didn't even realize... Oh, stars, it's late. I have to go. I need to check in on Dlarit, and make sure all my homework is in order before—"

Ben stopped him before he turned away. "Are you gonna be ok? ...Are we?"

"Yes." He quit fidgeting and looked him in the eye. "I wish I could kiss you right now, but... I'll see you next weekend, ok? And, thank you. That was a very informative demonstration. I _will_ learn from it."

"Sure," Ben said, his tone almost a question. "Good luck this week. You'll get through it. I know you will."

"Thanks. Whatever happens, it can't possibly be worse than that." Hux tried to smile but he wasn't even fooling himself.

"Isn't there someplace we could... I just... don't want to leave it like this."

"I'll be ok, Ben. I really do need to go."

"Alright," he sighed. "Good night, then."

"Good night."

Ben took off and Hux walked his speeder back out to its parking spot, watching him go. The pain in his head had subsided, but now he noticed the soreness in his arm returning with a vengeance.


	8. Chapter 8

Back in the dorm, Dlarit was already asleep. She had drunk all the tea and Hux hoped that it had helped. He stripped down to his basics and his usual sleep shirt, washed up, put away the cups and the kettle, injected his last painkiller, and got into bed as quietly as possible. Hegan and Anakin were nowhere to be seen, though Anakin usually spent his weekends at home and showed up early on Monday mornings.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, drowsiness overtook him. Despite his weariness, he slept fitfully, his head filled with intangible nightmares. At some point in the night he woke with a persistent sense of dread following him from his dreams into reality. He decided not to go back to sleep, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. A quick check confirmed that Dlarit, and also Hegan were sleeping soundly, though Dlarit looked as though she was suffering from chills.

Hux got up and fished his winter blanket out of his footlocker. As he tucked it around Dlarit, the door crashed open and four Stormtroopers rushed in, blasters held at the ready. Hux froze in confusion, but Hegan threw herself from the top bunk onto the lead trooper, slamming into him and knocking them both to the ground. It was all Hux needed to kick himself into action. He dove for his footlocker, fortunately still open, and snatched up his vibroknife, just as a blue ring paralyzed him.

None of the troopers said anything. Moving with precision, they pulled black bags over the students' heads and hauled them out of the room and down the hall as though they weighed nothing. It was hard to hear over the confined sound of his own breathing, but Hux could make out other sounds of struggle in the adjoining rooms.

Once the initial shock of the attack wore off, Hux realized that this must be the start of their SERE training and he stopped trying to fight. _So it's going to be practical, rather than theoretical._ They had learned about interrogation and resistance techniques some time ago, though he had imagined there would be some kind of orientation class beforehand. He could see how this would be far more effective, though. Furious with himself for having frozen up -- while Hegan had reacted instantaneously -- he wondered how many points he had already lost. He also wondered if he would be issued demerits for keeping a blade in his room against regulations.

After a very long walk (and ride) to stars knew where, they were dumped unceremoniously in a room and left to recover from the stun blasts.

Dlarit was the first to recover, if she'd even been stunned at all. "Guys... What the _frack_..."

Hux jerked as someone touched his shoulder, then felt the hand move up to his head and pull the suffocating bag free. He took a few deep breaths in relief and tried to thank Dlarit, but his words came out slurred. She seemed to take his meaning anyway and nodded in the dim light as she moved over to free Hegan.

The room was small -- about the same size as their dorm room -- and bare, save for a bucket in one corner. Hux groaned when he saw it. Of course, there was nothing to clean oneself with; he'd have to sacrifice his favorite sleep shirt to the cause. They were really going for realism here. It was also ten to twenty degrees colder than their dorm room, and smelled strongly of acrid, industrial cleaning solution trying (and failing) to cover up the scent of blood and sweat and more unsavory things.

When he felt like he could speak without sounding drunk, he asked, "Dlarit, are you ok? How are you feeling?"

"Not so great. How's your arm?"

"It'll be fine for a while. I took my last stim a few hours ago. Hegan?"

"'Mmfine... Ahthink..."

Hux blinked a few times to clear his vision and sat up, scrutinizing the room for hidden cameras and listening devices, being careful not to let his gaze linger for too long in any one spot. He knew they were being observed, probably recorded as well. It didn't take long for him to spot the obvious decoy, and soon after two better-disguised cameras.

"Hegan, when you're feeling up to it, why don't you teach us that Corsairs song you were singing at the bar last night?"

"Right-o."

As Hegan belted out the bawdy anthem, Hux gathered them closer and held his hand over his mouth in case someone watching could lip read. He spoke loudly enough for them to hear, but not enough to be picked up over Hegan's singing. "There are at least two cameras, one at my three, and another at my ten. Is there one behind me?"

Hegan leaned back into a high note and flashed him a number sign indicating one at his six.

"So they seem to have all the angles covered, which means it will be hard for us to work on making weapons or anything of the sort in here, but we may be able to screen each other for privacy if we work together. They're going to try to turn us against each other. Do not break faith. Do not accept any favors or admit to or sign anything. We've got to be here for each other, no matter what. Try to stay positive. This will be over soon enough." He glanced over at Dlarit, who was trying to pay attention but looking as if she would pass out any second. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he continued, "Whatever rations they give us, at least half will go to Dlarit. We'll share the other half.  For now, we should get as much sleep as we can. They're not going to let us get much, if any. And, we should stay close for warmth."

Motioning to herself, Hegan indicated she'd take first watch. 

"No, you're a light enough sleeper anyway, there's no need for tonight. Let's just all get what rest we can."

She nodded and stopped singing.

"You actually have a very nice voice, you know?" Hux smiled as they all leaned against the wall and snuggled close to each other.

"Don't make this weird, Hux."

The three of them shared a laugh and eventually dozed off. Almost as soon as they did, the overhead lights blazed on. Dlarit was the only one who didn't wake. Hux and Hegan stayed where they were, huddled tightly together, but took the opportunity to look around. There wasn't much to see besides bare, permacrete walls, with evenly spaced ring hooks and magnetic locks, presumably to run restraints through when needed. The condensation on the walls pointed to being underground, and if the temperature wasn't being artificially controlled, they were probably somewhere up in the few remaining mountains of Coruscant, where they had completed their wilderness training a few months prior.  

There were no windows, and the only door was a heavy, durasteel, blast door-like construction. A slot at the bottom permitted small items to be passed under the door, but it was bolted shut from the outside. Hux reached over to fiddle with it and a voice boomed over the speakers, "Keep away from the door!"

Dlarit jumped and groaned. Hegan shushed her. 

"Sorry," Hux whispered.  

" _Frack_ , you're burning up."

"I'm so cold," Dlarit stuttered.

Hux pulled his shirt off and draped it around her shoulders. As the chill of the room settled on his skin, he was surprised at how much warmth the thin cloth had lent him. He hoped it helped her to feel a little more comfortable.

This time, just as they started to drift off, the same authoritarian voice shouted, "On your feet, prisoners!"

" _Frackin_ ' come in here and make us!"

"Hegan!" Hux hissed, shocked that she would sass off to a commanding officer.

"What? It's resistance training. I'm resisting."

"I don't think that's what—"

The door clanged open and four Rebel soldiers charged in; they may have been the same four that kidnapped them earlier, Hux couldn't tell, he was busy helping Dlarit get to her feet.

"Up against the wall!" the lead soldier barked and shoved Hux back. Dlarit dropped to her hands and knees.

"She's sick. She needs help."

"I said, get back against the wall, Imp!" The guard slammed the butt of his blaster rifle into Hux's injured shoulder, and even through the painkiller a white starburst of pain flashed before his eyes.

"I'm alright Hux, don't worry about—" Another Rebel slapped her across the face and yanked her up by her hair. "Ow! _Frack_! I'm up! I'm up!"

"No talking!"

Hux understood that the suddenness of their brutality was meant to scare them more than actually hurt them, but he wasn't afraid, so all he had was the pain.

Hegan was still sitting, determined to ride this out in her typically stubborn way. It took two of the guards to wrestle her to her feet and throw her against the wall next to Hux. He reached out to steady her, but pulled back when the soldier raised his rifle again.

The Rebel soldiers lined up in front of them, scowling, blasters at the ready.

For an unknown amount of time they stood there, neither side saying anything, Hux nursing his shoulder while Dlarit wavered and clutched Hux's shirt around her tightly. Hegan glared. Finally, an officer appeared. She walked with a pronounced limp and used a black, polished cane that glittered under the bright lights. Another soldier followed her in, trailing a hose behind him.

"I am Commander Arwinn Finae of the Rebel Alliance In Exile. As my prisoners, you may call me 'sir'.  You will follow every order issued by myself or my men. Failure to do so immediately and to the best of your abilities will result in punishments for you and your unit." The officer spoke as she paced back and forth a few times, casting her calculating gaze over the three of them before coming to stop in front of Dlarit.

"You look sick, prisoner. Do you need medical attention?"

"I will accept no special favors from the enemy," Dlarit coughed.

"We'll see about that. Hose her down."

Hux and Hegan moved as one to shield Dlarit from the blast of icy water.

Commander Finae held up her hand and the spray stopped, leaving them shivering. "Well, what have we here? Not just one hero, but two! Oh, you are going to be so much fun to break. And you _will_ break. Make no mistake of that. Strip."

Numb and already half-convinced this was real, even though they knew it was just training, the three of them obeyed. It didn't take long, since they were eager to get out of their wet pajamas.

"Turn around. Hands on the wall," the commander ordered, then to the guards, "Search them."

They all closed their eyes as they were roughly and invasively searched. It was humiliating enough as is without having to see it done to each other.

Hux glanced over his shoulder when he felt cold metal touch his back. At first he thought it was the tip of a blaster, but it was the commander's cane. "I know every one of these scars has a story. And I know that you remember every single one. Now, Dlarit here, she's from a wealthy family and has the proper upbringing not to inquire. But you, Hegan, nothing more than a street rat, adopted into a struggling family of commercial pilots, not very good ones at that, I bet you've just been dying to ask.  So go on, ask him."

Trying to look as if he didn't care, Hux stared back at the wall. At least he could pass off the trembling as part of being cold. 

"Ask him about this one, here." She ran the tip of her cane from the top of the largest scar down to where it terminated at his hip.

Hegan glanced over at Hux, but remained silent.

"He may have mislead you with his seemingly impeccable behavior at the Academy on Coruscant, but the truth is, Mr. Hux is a rule breaker. He thinks he's special. Entitled, even. I'm sure you've all seen his father paling around with your commandant. How do you think Mr. Hux got into the Academy? He certainly didn't fight tooth and nail for it like you did, Ms. Hegan."

Hux felt Hegan's gaze on him, Dlarit's too. He kept his face as neutral as he could, but he was angry and afraid and he couldn't stop the blush of shame rising to his cheeks.

"It's not gonna work, you know. Trying to turn us against each other," Hegan growled. "We know what he's like."

"Well, if you already know, then there's no reason to prolong his humiliation, is there? Ask him."

Hegan returned her gaze to the wall and said nothing further.

Behind him, Hux heard the whoosh of the cane being raised and brought down hard. He braced for the impact, but it landed on Dlarit instead. She cried out in surprise and pain and collapsed to the floor. Hux and Hegan both dropped to cover her but were pried off and tossed aside by the soldiers.

The commander struck her again, and Hux shouted, "Stop it! Leave her alone!"

"Oh, I will. All you have to do to stop this," she waved her cane at Hegan, "is ask," and then pointed at Hux before raising it over her head again, "or tell."

"Don't. Say. A word," Dlarit choked out between coughs.

The next hit landed over her kidneys and she curled up to protect her face and neck, biting down on her scream.

"I know the two of you can handle pain, but how well do you take it when it's inflicted on your comrades?"

Finae raised the cane again.

Hux knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't bear forcing Hegan to be accessory to Dlarit's mistreatment, or his own shaming, so he spoke up first. "It's because I—"

"Don't!" Dlarit protested.

The commander smiled and finished for him. "It's because you cried, like a child. You were such a disappointment to your father."

Hux stared at her, aghast. _How did she know that?_ Anger welled up like black oil and fueled the spark of his indignation. Even as he shouted the words that soothed his ego, he knew he'd played right into her hands. "I _was_ a child!" _Frack! Frack, you idiot! Shut up! Get ahold of yourself!_

He stood there, shaking as much from outrage as the cold.

"We'll talk more later," Finae said, then to the soldiers, "Take him out."

Rubbing his neck in their pre-arranged sign for "all clear" so Hegan would know not to fight them on this, Hux walked out willingly with the soldiers. They pushed him nonetheless, but it would have been much worse for him, or his friends, if he resisted. The room they shoved him into was more like a closet, less than a square meter, and even colder without their shared body heat. Once the door was closed it was also pitch black. He felt around the metal walls for some kind of depressions or protrusions but found none. Hux slid down the wall to sit with his knees drawn up. As thin as he was he still had trouble folding his long legs up comfortably.

 _They're probably watching me even now,_ he thought, worried that he was being too paranoid. _Frack it. Might as well sleep before this starts driving me crazy._

Time didn't seem to have any meaning anymore, and he was astonished at how easy it was to lose track in this kind of situation. _The attack had been, when? Around midnight? And the trip here perhaps an hour? And the encounter with the commander -- it seemed like such a long time, but it might only have been ten, twenty minutes? So it's about 02:30 or perhaps 03:00. The painkiller is wearing off, and it should last at least 8 hours, but who knows what getting clocked with that rifle did to it. It could be as late as 06:00. No wonder I'm so tired._

After a while, he noticed how eerily silent the room was as well.

He tried to listen for any kind of noise, even the hum of electronics behind the panels of the wall or the lock on the door, but detected nothing.  

_Sonic dampeners._

Remembering that paying too much attention to the quiet would lead to auditory hallucinations as his brain struggled to make some sense of his environment, he slowed his breathing and visualized himself drifting through space. That kind of scenario didn't frighten him like it did most people. He loved being in the endless dark stretches of open space. It took him away from himself, reminded him that he was but a minuscule, unimportant speck in the vastness of the universe, but also a part of its infinite and magnificent order. A meditation of sorts. Comforting.

The way his shoulder and arm were pulsing waves of pain through him, he must have achieved some sleep before the blaring white noise woke him. Hux tried to cover his ears, but he could only manage one. The walls vibrated and magnified the cacophony, and there was really no way he could protect his hearing. He turned his head awkwardly to put one ear against his knee while he shielded the other with the palm of his hand. It was still painfully loud but it would have to do.

 _This is just training. It will be over soon enough_ , he told himself. _You can do this. Think. Take your mind elsewhere._ The more he tried to not think about the burning strain in his neck the more his mind focused on it. That, or the probable hearing loss he would suffer. _No, they wouldn't do that to us.  We have to be fully functional or what good would we be? That means it's probably just below the threshold for permanent damage. You just aren't used to this kind of noise._

Hux prized peace and quiet above all else. Solitude and silence had been his closest allies for a long time. He had often sworn to himself that when he made captain he would spend every minute of leisure in the ship's library, or in his own sonically dampened cabin. Now, he renewed that vow with vigor.

Screams started to weave in and out of the white noise, always just beyond detection. Agony. Terror. He wasn't entirely sure if he were hallucinating or not. Some of the cries started to sound like those of a child. A young boy. His own cries when—

"...Father, please..."

Hux pressed his hand over his ear harder. _No! It's not me. It can't be. Don't listen to it!_  

In his mind, all the images Ben had called forth, and more. He recalled the techniques Ben had taught him and what he'd learned in his RTI lessons, and turned his thoughts to something mundane. A textbook. Engineering. Possessed of an eidetic memory, Hux recalled each page, word by word, reciting them in his mind as if he were reading them from his datapad in class. The repetition calmed and helped clear his mind of fear.

A papery, crackling sound, like rattling plasti-foil began to filter in, fading in and out around the child's cries for mercy, but this time he identified the source as soon as the spike of adrenaline surged through him. _Insects!_

He _hated_ bugs. Was _terrified_ of them, in fact. Their disgusting, mechanical, droid-like creeping and their sticky feet that seemed to latch onto you no matter how hard you tried to shake them off. _No, stop thinking about it!_ And worse, trailing filth across every millimeter of skin they traversed. He fought to suppress a whine and curled in on himself as far as he could. _How did they know?_ His chest constricted though his heart raced; the blood rushing through him compounding the pain in his shoulder and arm. Breaths came in shallow, panting whimpers. Hyperventilating. _It's not_ — _it's just in your mind!_ The sound wasn't coming from some distant point in the ceiling like before, now it surrounded him, the clicks and chirps just next to his face. _Stop! Thinking! Stop!_ He could _feel_ them now -- crawling over his exposed flesh, threatening to bite, to scratch, to poison if he so much as twitched -- no longer able to determine if it were real or his imagination.

 _It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not_ —

Something dropped on him from above and panic took possession of his body. He leapt up, pounding on the door and shrieking, "Stop it! Please! Let me out! Get them off of me!"

Everywhere he moved his bare feet touched crunchy shells and ichor. Bites and stings and angry buzzing on his hands and feet. Moving up his legs. He slapped at himself wildly, pushed past the terror of touching the vile creatures by the greater terror of being eaten alive. Anything to get them off.

"Please! Please let me out!"

The sound cut out at the same time the lights came on, blinding in their brightness. The shift was so sudden he thought he'd gone deaf as well. Gradually, the sound of his harried breathing came back to him. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, now more afraid to open them and find nothing than to find a room full of bugs.

When he did finally look, there was a solitary, fat fefze beetle clambering up the (not so) far wall.  Still dangerous and terrifying, but a far cry from the horror he'd convinced himself he was experiencing. Hux collapsed under the weight of his own failure and curled up on the floor, sobbing.

 _Pathetic! You're_ fracking _pathetic! You knew they would pull this_ kark _and you still fell for it! You would have told them everything, just now. It was all in your head! Idiot! And now they have two things to use against you. How much more will you reveal? This is just the first day!_

A thought struck him like a fist to the gut: _But what if that_ was _real? What if the commander is Force-sensitive and she's pulling these things from my own mind? How else could they know all these things about me?_ Well aware that the very act of thinking about it would call all his fears to light, he set about suppressing them, encoding them the way Ben had taught him, burying them under layers and layers of other, lesser fears.

He jumped up when the beetle lost its grip on the smooth wall and clattered to the floor. It raised up on its hind legs, preparing to spray him with acid, but he kept as still and as far back as he could and it eventually lowered itself back to the ground and continued skittering about. _Just stay there.  Please don't come over here. Please._ He scooted around it whenever it came close, but he was more worried about what it would do if it climbed up the wall again, level with his face, or if it decided he was a threat and flew at him. This kind of prolonged fear was exhausting, but he didn't dare fall asleep with the bug in the room.

Desperate to bang on the door and beg to be let out, he fought against the urge to cry. _They have to let you out sooner or later. Stay calm and it won't hurt you._ Even knowing that was the case, he couldn't truly convince himself.

The lights cut off again.

"No," he groaned, straining his ears to listen for the direction of the beetle's movement. Hux's hearing was superb, but the sonic torture had muffled every sound save for the pounding of his own heart and the rumble of tension in his muscles as he clenched his jaw.  

He had no awareness of the insect until it touched his foot. Instinct drove him to jerk away, and he felt it raise up again in a threat display. _Please go away please please..._ Hux forced himself, against all conflicting urges, to stand still. He had been burned by a fefze once before, when someone had hidden one under his pillow back at the academy on Arkanis, and bore the scar on the inside of his wrist to this day.

It started climbing up his leg, in search of the only warmth in the room.

_Please no please no please stars please please get off!_

It continued its excruciating trek across his stomach, up his side, and finally tried to nestle itself in the crook of his sling. Hux couldn't catch his breath. He was already hyperventilating and feeling dizzy with fear. If he breathed too deeply and disturbed it, it would retaliate. A bite this close to his heart could be fatal.

"Please..." he mouthed, barely a whisper, "Please help me. Someone, please..."

Minutes passed. Hours. Longer.

Either the cold had deepened or he had somehow developed less resistance to it. Shivers came in violent waves and his extremities had gone numb. He needed to move, but every time he tried the beetle shifted and Hux froze in place again.

Realizing that no one was coming for him, that he was alone in this hell, that anyone he cared about was far away and unable to help, drained all hope from him. He was hurt, scared, tired, and betrayed by his own mind and body. But he had always been on his own in times like this. It wasn't so different. More extreme, maybe, but not so different from life on Arkanis. Reaching into his despair, accepting it, Hux found the courage he needed. _This is really what it's like. This is what they need us to understand._ _There is no hope of a rescue. No one is coming to save me. Not the Empire, not my unit, not even Ben. I have to save myself. It’s ok to cry, to be afraid. That never made any difference anyway. Just don’t let it take control. Do what you have to do to survive._

The bug adjusted one scratchy leg, dragging it across his flesh with the promise of violence, like the light touch of a razor.

Hux had a plan. It was a shitty plan -- and he was still cold, hungry, and afraid -- but it was a plan. And now he had a tiny bit of hope, too.


	9. Chapter 9

He must have drifted off despite his fear, because when he came to he had slid down the wall a bit.  His legs felt as though they'd give out at any second so he lowered himself as carefully as he could to the floor.  The bug stirred but didn't bite as he'd expected.  It had reoriented itself lengthwise under his arm, its head somewhere between his wrist and his heart.  Hux's desire to lie down began to trump his fear of being bitten.  He'd lost all track of time, but given the gnawing in his stomach, he'd been in here for most of the night and possibly half the day.  Maybe longer.

Every time he tried to sleep, the lights or the sound would return.  Sometimes both.  He told himself over and over that every second of hell was one second closer to the end of this week.  Unlike real captivity, this had an end point.  He just had to endure until then. 

That didn't really make it any easier, though.

Hux drew his knees up to his chest, slowly, bringing them as close as he could without disturbing the beetle.  He tried to rub some warmth back into his legs with his free hand, but they were swollen and distended from standing still for so long and it hurt to touch them.  

The sound wasn't so loud now, but it was some sort of obnoxious Rebel propaganda on repeat.  "...murderers of children, destroyers of freedom and love..." _What nonsense.  Soldiers don't murder children. And freedom comes from order, and love, from safety. What good is freedom when real change is bogged down by democratic bureaucracies? The Republic regulated everything in minutiae and ignored the bigger picture, allowing too many voices to muddy the power it should have centralized. Rules are rules, and what's right is right; it doesn't need to be different for each and every planet. Ridiculous._   He tuned it out.  Now was the perfect time to practice concealing his thoughts.  If the commander were reading his mind, he could cover his true feelings by pretending to be taken by this nerfshit, or at least to be considering it.  As good as he was at hiding his emotions, he still wasn't sure he could pull that off.  _Best to remain defiant for now._

Armored boots clanked down the hall, getting closer.  He felt the vibrations in the floor rather than hearing them.

Hux pulled himself up the wall as fast as he dared and leaned against it, panting from the effort.  His legs and his arm throbbed in protest, and for a second he thought he might even pass out.  Focusing on his plan (without directly focusing on his plan), he cleared his mind and waited.

The door opened.  He held his hand up in a show of submission and stumbled out into the near-blinding brightness.  Two Rebel soldiers motioned him onward with their blasters.  One leaned into the cell and gave it a cursory glance.  He turned to the other guard, "Hey, where'd that bug go—"

Hux reached under his arm and grasped the disgusting creature by its abdomen.  Searing agony rippled outward from his chest as it sank its mandibles into him, but he ripped it away and thrust it into the soldier's face.  Furious, the bug stung and bit and sprayed the guard with a thick stream of acid.  The other guard, not expecting an escape attempt of this ferocity, paid for his lack of preparedness with a broken nose as Hux's elbow connected with his face.  He reached down as the guard fell to his knees, kicked his blaster away and yanked his code cylinder from his vest pocket.

He had intended to run, but his legs reacted to his mental commands like they'd been disconnected from his brain.  He half-ran, half-tripped down the hall and around the corner just as blaster fire erupted behind him.  The insect's poison raced through his veins, burning as fiercely as the acid it spit. He could barely breathe by the time he reached the cell he'd been in with Hegan and Dlarit.  Slamming the code cylinder into the lock, a satisfying click indicated it had worked.

The door slid open and Hux dropped to his knees to the shocked stares of his comrades.  Hegan and Dlarit had been given prison uniforms to wear, and they seemed surprised that he hadn't.  Hux almost laughed at the sight he must have presented: naked and disheveled, with feverish, crazed eyes.  Certainly no one had ever seen him look less than impeccable.

"Get out! Go! Two guards! Following me!" he gasped.

Hegan was quick to get to her feet, hauling Dlarit up as well.  She hurried to his side and hefted him up with her other arm.

"Right.  Go... right..." Hux was close to passing out.  Darkness swirled around his peripheral vision, closing in as if he were sinking into an ocean of black water and finally pulling him under.


	10. Chapter 10

He woke in an actual bed, and for a moment was so disoriented by the setting that he forgot where he was. Surprised to find himself unrestrained, Hux sat up and looked around. He was in an infirmary that was done up to look like one that might be found inside a Rebel base. They had spared no detail: even the shelves housing various files and accessories were in a state of disarray, looking nothing like an orderly Imperial med bay.  

A tray of food and water had been set on the desk beside the bed.  Hux ignored it, much to the chagrin of his stomach.

His Bacta pod had been filtered and refilled.  There was an intravenous drip of some kind running through the crook of his good arm. Hux leaned over and pulled it out with his teeth. He couldn't do anything about the new bandage covering the bite under his sling, so he left it for the time being. He even decided to remain seated, though he was still exhausted and the softness of the bed called to him like an Arkanisian syreen.

A medic entered a few moments later, looking startled to see Hux awake and upright. "Why did you take your drip out? You need to be lying down."

"I want it on the record that you gave me painkillers and possibly other narcotics to which I did not consent. Is Cadet Dlarit receiving treatment for her illness and injuries?"

"Prisoner 62? Not that I know of."

"Then I will accept no special favors from the enemy."

"Listen, kid, it's my job to keep you from dying. It's not a 'favor'. At least lie down and let me finish my work before I get in trouble."

"Your problems are not my concern, Rebel."

"Are you refusing treatment, then?"

"Yes."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "You wanna at least eat something?"

"Are my comrades receiving food and water?"

The medic sighed. "How should I know?"

"Then I will not—"

"Yeah, yeah. You won't accept 'special favors from the enemy'. I get it. D'you wanna go back to your cell then? It's not gonna do you any good to just sit here."

"Yes," he said, though it was the last place he wanted to be. He hoped the man at least meant the same cell with the others.

The medic called for the guards, who showed up in a group of four this time and cuffed Hux's hands before trying to move him. They weren't taking any chances. Hux followed them out on shaky legs and didn't try to resist. He kept his head down and walked quietly because he wanted a clear view of where he was going, in order to add to his mental map of the place. He couldn't do that if he was hooded or beaten senseless.

They didn't take him back to the cell. Instead, he was told to sit in a simple metal chair in a vacant, well-lit room. He complied. The binders around his wrists were removed and his one hand was shackled to the frame of the chair instead. They bound his ankles to the legs of the chair as well. Then, all but one of the guards left. The last one kept his blaster trained on Hux, glaring at him as if daring him to act out. Hux narrowed his eyes and returned the guard's stare, refusing to be intimidated.

"You _fracked_ my buddy up pretty good, Imp. Keep looking at me like that. Give me a reason to pistol whip the _kark_ outta you."

Hux didn't say anything, but didn't look away either.

The Rebel stepped towards him and raised the butt of his blaster, but Hux still didn't avert his eyes.

The _crack_ of the rifle connecting with his temple surprised him more than hurt him, at first. He expected beatings, but he hadn't realized they were allowed to be violent enough to draw blood. A warm trickle flowed from the gash and dripped off the edge of his eyebrow into the corner of his eye. Hux blinked a few times but his vision remained blurry. After a few minutes, the pounding in his head grew intolerable.

Commander Finae limped into the room and stood beside him for a time, without saying anything.  Hux looked up.

She slapped him. "I didn't give you permission to look at me, prisoner."

He watched his blood drip onto his lap instead.  Counting the drops.  Welcoming the distraction.  Wanting his clothes back, or at least some kind of clothing.

"You were involved in an incident on Arkanis." She stopped, letting the words hang in the air, inviting him to fill in the rest of her accusation either out loud, or (he suspected) with his mind.  Hux immediately blocked off any thoughts of Arkanis, thinking instead of the misleading and completely unrelated covers he had practiced.

"You stabbed a boy there, when you were a member of the Preparatory Academy."

His eyes widened, but he kept the memory buried and his mind occupied.  Hux was glad he'd had his head down so she couldn't see his reaction.  He said nothing.

"I want to know why."

Again, he stayed silent, continuing to count the crimson drops that had formed a sizable pool on his leg and spilled over onto the chair.  _29... 30... 31... 32..._

"Ok. I see how you want to play this." She said over her shoulder to the guard, "Turn on the HoloProjector."

There was no accompanying sound to the wavering image, but he didn't need to hear it to know.

Dlarit was curled on the floor of a tiny cell, hands clutched to her ears, shivering and crying.  It was the same room he had just been in.

"This can all stop. We can give your friend the treatment she needs. All you have to do is talk to me."

Hux closed his eyes. He wanted to help her. Dlarit had been at an unfair disadvantage from the start of this exercise, but he was also almost certain she or Hegan had watched him suffering and had done nothing to stop it.  And rightly so. Hux wasn't withholding information out of spite; they all understood, as officers-to-be, that this was something they needed to endure and survive. Even though he had been terrified and desperate to get out, he understood now that it would only have hurt him more in the long run.

That still didn't make it any easier. Watching a fellow Imperial (and friend) suffer and knowing he had the power to stop it was the most difficult decision he'd yet made.

"Don't fool yourself. I already know the reason you did it. All you have to do is say it. Your friend doesn't need to suffer like you did."

Just because he didn't see how she could know, didn't mean that she was bluffing.

"You've been through so much in your short life. I don't understand how you can sit here and watch it be done to someone you supposedly care about. What kind of monster would allow that to happen? You Imps really are evil to your cores."

Her words stung, but Hux was not about to fail _again_ and give her even more fodder with which to humiliate and control him. _If she knows so much let her say it._

"I can make that happen, you know, what that boy did to you. To her. Right now. While you watch."

He flinched, and nearly looked up, but kept his mouth shut and his head down. _She's fishing. She can't possibly know. And she wouldn't dare do that. It's a bluff. It_ has _to be._ He hadn't even felt her inside his head, as he should have for her to have uncovered something that deeply hidden.  It was not likely a part of his public record either, as those kinds of "incidents" tended to go underreported at his father's academy.  Particularly when they happened to the commandant's son.

"She's really not well. I'm sure the temperature in that cell hasn't done her any favors. She could really die, you know. But, I guess that's ok with you. Survival of the fittest." She shrugged.

Hux's head shot up. "What did you say?"

Finae was an expert at hiding her tells, but he read her mistake in the slight twitch of her eye. She had said too much and now he knew, without a doubt, where she was getting her information.  She wasn't Force-sensitive at all.

_"...survival of the fittest, boy. We're not so above animals that we can't learn from their mistakes. If you can't learn to take care of yourself here, the galaxy will eat you alive. You can't possibly hope to survive out there as weak as you are..."_

Brendol was still here.  Not just on Coruscant, but _here_.

 _Will I_ ever _escape him? Is he determined to ruin me this badly? How can he be so petty?_

Hux wanted to shout. To yell something. _Anything_. But getting angry would only let her know she had still managed to win. And it would let _him_ know, too. Hux could almost feel him watching through the HoloCams.

Dlarit had gone still, unconscious maybe.  His interference wouldn't matter now.

Hux collected himself and fought with all his might to keep his voice even as he lied. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. That boy stole something from me. That's all. I don't see how that could possibly be relevant. And now I've told you why, will you keep your promise and get her the treatment she needs?"

Finae's eyes flashed fire. "We're not finished, you and I."

He gave her the most disinterested stare he could manage. "No. I imagine not."

She backhanded him hard enough to knock the chair over and stormed out. 

 _No no no no_ — he thought in a panic as the chair tilted towards his injured side.  Hux landed with a sharp cry as jarring pain shot through his arm. The Bacta pod clanged against the stone surface, bruising his ribs, but thankfully didn't break.  He grit his teeth to cut off further screams, knowing his father was watching.  A desperate effort to right himself, or at least shift his position, only met with failure and more agony.

The guard snorted and made no move to help him up.  

Hux's head was still bleeding (or bleeding again), and he could do nothing to keep it from spilling into his eyes except to turn his face toward the floor.  It was not a floor that a face should be anywhere near, but twisting the other way was uncomfortable and aggravated his shoulder even more. With every fresh wave of pain, he hoped he would pass out.  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm his ragged breathing and stop the strangled whine that clawed its way up his throat.

"Wake up, _kark_ for brains. No sleeping on my watch." The guard kicked his chair, eliciting a gasp from him as his shoulder was jolted again.  The longer he laid there, his weight pressing down on his shoulder, the more nauseous he felt.

"Please, help me up," Hux groaned. "I'm going to be sick."

"The _frack_ should I care, Imp?"

He fought to choke it back, but the bile burned his throat and eventually he couldn't swallow it down anymore.  He retched repeatedly until it was all out, the convulsions wrenching even more misery from him.  He tried to move his head away; the smell of it made him heave again.  Turning his head as far away as he could, he closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth to ameliorate the stench as much as possible.

"I said, 'No slee—'"

"I'm not _fragging_ sleeping!" Hux snapped, hoping he wasn't about to be kicked, or worse, for his loss of control.

A boot clanged into the frame of the metal chair again, shoving him back a few centimeters. He grunted as pain flared up in his shoulder once more, and cringed, bracing for further assaults.

"Then keep your _frelling_ eyes open or I'll close them, permanently."

Hux reluctantly obeyed.  At least, now, he was far enough back from the pool of vomit to not have to lie in it. He let his eyes go unfocused and stared across the filthy floor to the nondescript, permacrete wall.  He'd dealt with pain like this before; he could do it again.

The crumbling wall blurred before him as he felt his mind drifting out of touch with his body.  His pain seemed far away, still there, but peripheral to the concentration he directed toward his breathing and memories of another time and place.  Without the darkness, he found it difficult to escape to his usual scenario of floating in space, adrift in the infinity of the universe.  Instead, he lost himself in the tiny holes and bubbles of the wall's surface, following the imagined patterns and lines until faces and other fantastic shapes began to form in the drab, gray stone.


End file.
